Chapter 5: Amongst the Dead


"It'll probably help you get in character, though," said Ron. "Think what that wand's done!"
"But that's my point!" said Hermione. "This is the wand that tortured Neville's mum and dad, and who knows how many other people? This is the wand that killed Sirius!"
— Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, J.K. Rowling


The trip to Diagon Alley with Hagrid quite literally warmed my soul. As we perused Flourish and Blotts in search of my new schoolbooks, it was easy to forget that this wasn't my Hagrid and that he didn't know me yet.

Flashes of the last time I saw my Hagrid—tears streaming down his ruddy face into his bushy black beard, forced to hold Harry's lifeless body high for all to see—haunted my thoughts as we chatted genially over pistachio ice creams at Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor. However, cheerful conversation flowed easily between us, just as it always had, and I promised myself I would visit his hut soon and befriend him properly again.

Again.

I sighed. That word—again—had been itching incessantly at my brain all day. How was I supposed to act like I didn't belong at Hogwarts already? It was my home. It had certainly been more of a home to me over the past seven years than my parents' house had become. I knew the hallways and corridors, the secret passageways, and even the exact schedule of the roaming staircases. It was going to be a real bitch to pretend like I didn't belong.

What would my year at Hogwarts be like without Harry or Ron constantly by my side? There had been times, when the three of us had argued, where we'd gone months without speaking, and truthfully, it had been terribly lonely. I knew it was a miracle I'd even made friends at all. I was quite aware of my status as a bossy little know-it-all, and very few can tolerate it. Now that my previous life, or rather, my future, had essentially disappeared, was I damned to a lifetime of being alone?

And how was I going to act like I didn't already know Remus and Sirius? I knew their darkest of secrets, the secrets they thought no one else would ever discover. Hell, I even knew how Professor Lupin took his tea.

Professor Lupin, I smirked to myself. I better not let that one slip out.

And even more—how I was I meant to handle walking amongst the dead? Seeing them alive—happy and whole and alive—was much more difficult than I ever could have imagined.

Alive.

Oh sweet Merlin, what about when the term began tomorrow?

Lily and James.

I would get to meet Harry's parents.

But then I realized something even more alarming.

Wormtail.

I would have to sit in class with the fucking traitorous rat and pretend like I didn't know every horrible thing that he did. Or, will do, I corrected myself. He hasn't done anything yet.

...yet.

So would he become a Death Eater? Would he betray Lily and James to Voldemort? Would he betray Harry? Was there something I could do to prevent it?

I pictured Sirius—adult Sirius, my Sirius—fresh from Azkaban, standing in the Shrieking Shack—his hair filthy and matted, his face terribly waxy and sallow, his teeth disgustingly yellow and rotting—his eyes crazed like Bellatrix's had been, prepared for murder.

"THEN YOU SHOULD HAVE DIED! Died rather than betray your friends, as we would have done for you!"

I shuddered at the memory and suppressed a sob.

How am I meant to walk amongst the dead?

I shook my head slightly and sighed again. Taking a sip of my tea, I stared absently across the kitchens at the bustling house elves. I told myself that I had simply decided to visit the kitchens this evening for a cup of tea, but honestly, I was avoiding running into Sirius or Remus. As Hagrid had escorted me back to the castle this afternoon, I caught a glimpse of the two of them lounging by the lake near the spot Dumbledore and I had occupied this morning.

Quite a strenuous internship indeed, Sirius.

But I'd decided then that until I discovered the best way to deal with the raging battle of emotions taking place inside my head, it would probably be best to avoid them altogether. So that's how I found myself, sitting alone at the Gryffindor table in the kitchens, and quite frankly, bored as hell. Maybe I should visit the library? A good book might be a worthy distraction. I desperately needed to research my situation, after all. Would there be any books on Time Travel in the Hogwarts Library? At least it would be very unlikely for me to run into Sirius there, I thought with a smirk, taking another sip of my tea.

"You've only been here one day, and you've already found your way to the kitchens? That took us a whole year, you know."

I jumped at the voice and sloshed tea down my front.

My wand was out instantly as I leapt to my feet. Whipping around, I pointed it at the newcomer. Why on earth had I sat with my back to the door?

When did you become so stupid, Hermione? Did Mad-Eye teach you nothing?

Mad-Eye's gruff voice roared 'Constant Vigilance' inside my head as I faced my opponent, my body neatly sliding into a proper dueling stance. However, I quickly deflated. The urge to fight left me, as once again, I found myself face-to-face with Sirius Black, his hands in the air, staring down the end of my wand.

"Sweet Merlin, woman. Remind me to stop sneaking up on you! I swear, faster than an insulted hippogriff…" but his voice faltered suddenly, his eyes narrowing.

I quickly paid the price for letting my guard down. His hand closed around my wrist and his wand was at my throat before I even knew what was happening. Slamming me backward against the table and trapping me in place with my wand arm above my head, he said in a stony whisper, "Where the fuck did you get that wand?"

My eyes widened.

Oh, shit.

He recognized Bellatrix's wand.

"What—what do you mean?" I managed to whimper. My teacup had shattered in the tussle, and warm tea was dripping down my back, soaking through my shirt.

His grip tightened painfully around my wrist.

"That wand in your hand—the etchings on the handle—it's an Ollivander wand, but a wand like that would only have chosen someone from the House of Black. It's only happened twice in the past fifty years—me, and my cousin Bellatrix. That isn't your wand."

I whimpered again.

"So Hermione," he ground out, jaw clenched. "How the fuck did you get that wand?"

"Sirius—I—I can't tell you that. I'm sorry…" I stammered.

"Who the hell are you? A Death Eater? Of course you're a fucking Death Eater—appearing out of nowhere like that, like a goddamned angel—" he growled, his hand encircling my wrist even more tightly.

A fucking Death Eater?

Oh, no—no fucking way. He'd crossed a line. After all I've been through, after all I've done, I absolutely refused to be accused of following Tom-fucking-Riddle. My eyes narrowed as I stared into his, my voice rising in anger.

"Get the fuck off of me, Sirius! I'm not a Death Eater!" I cried, temper blazing.

"Then why the hell do you have Bella's wand, Hermione?" he roared back. His face was uncomfortably close to mine. Drops of spit landed on my face as he shouted.

"It's not her wand! Just let go of me and I'll explain, okay? Just. Let. Go!" I yelled, a shove punctuating every word as I attempted to push him away.

He finally let go of my wand arm, and seemed to realize he was quite literally lying on top of me as he pinned me to the table. He quickly backed away, but his wand was still raised, aimed for the spot directly between my eyes. I sat up slowly, rubbing my wrist where his hand had been. Well that'll certainly bruise. I raised my wand to cast a quick Reparo on the broken teacup, but he advanced on me again, wand held aloft.

"Put your fucking wand down, Sirius, I'm just trying to mend the cup," I snapped at him, annoyed by the entire situation. I flicked my wrist and the shards of china reformed. Then, with a muttered "Tergeo," I siphoned the spilled tea from the table. I gestured to the now-dry spot beside me and said, "Come sit."

He eyed me suspiciously, but grudgingly obliged. He sat down next to me on top of the Gryffindor table with his elbows on his knees. I turned to face him, legs crossed. My anger diminished slightly as I looked at him. He had every right to be wary of me.

"There's a lot of things that I can't tell you right now, Sirius," I said softly, placing a hand on his arm. "But I just need you to trust me. It's not her wand. Well, it's not her wand anymore, because she still has her wand—Goddamn it, this is difficult. Can you just take the fact that Professor Dumbledore trusts me as proof that I'm not lying to you?"

"It's not her wand anymore, because she still has her wand," he repeated flatly, determinedly looking down at the flagged stone floor of the kitchens.

"Er—yes? Look, I promise, one day soon I'll explain everything. But honestly, right now, I barely know you…" My voice broke off, and I heaved a defeated sigh. "I'm really sorry, Sirius."

He looked up and stared at me. "So—you're not a Death Eater?"

"God, no. I'm pretty much the furthest thing from a Death Eater one can be without being Dumbledore himself," I replied with a small laugh.

He finally nodded slowly. "All right, I'll let this go," he conceded. "But only for now. I want answers soon, Hermione."

I nodded in return, and said quietly, "And I'll do my best to give them to you."

He slid suddenly off of the tabletop and on to the bench below. "So, how about some treacle tart?"

I blinked down at him. "Er—what?"

"Treacle tart. My favorite pudding. That's the whole reason I'm down here?" he said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

Oh. Of course his favorite is treacle tart.

Just like Harry.

I wondered if it was James's favorite too? It seemed silly, but vowed to find out.

I smiled. "Sure."

Five minutes and a visit from Mipsy later, we were both digging in.

"The Hogwarts house elves make the best damn treacle tart I've ever tasted," he said, his mouth full of pudding. He swallowed, and then added "Except for maybe my mum's. You like it?"

His mum? Surely he didn't mean Walburga Black? I pictured the woman depicted in the horrible portrait hanging in the hallway of Grimmauld Place. I mentally dressed her in flowery apron, and imagined her standing in front of the oven in her dank, dusty kitchen, baking delicious treats with Kreacher. I stifled a laugh. However, I decided not to question him about it now. I wasn't meant to know anything about his family yet, after all.

"Love it," I said, taking another bite. After that, we were both silent for a while as we ate.

"So—er—one more thing, Sirius," I blurted out suddenly, and he looked up from his bowl. "How many people might recognize this wand? I knew I should have stopped by Ollivander's today and gotten a new one, but this one has just finally started to feel like my own..."

Suspicion flitted across his face once more, but thankfully, he chose not to interrogate me further. "Here at Hogwarts? Only me and my brother Regulus. But he's a sixth year and in Slytherin, so I doubt you'll run into him very often."

R.A.B.

I face death in the hope that when you meet your match you will be mortal once more.

Of course, Regulus will be here at Hogwarts as well. When did Kreacher visit the cave with Voldemort? I was silent, toying with my spoon as I wracked my brains trying to remember. Didn't the tapestry in the drawing room of Grimmauld Place say he died sometime in 1979? Was it before or after he finished Hogwarts?

"Hermione?"

I looked up to find Sirius staring at me again. "Hmm?" I responded blankly.

"I asked what year you'll be in?"

Oh.

"Er, sorry. I'll be in seventh year. Like you and Remus, right?" I asked, paying attention once again.

He nodded, sweeping his long hair from his eyes. "Yep, and my other two best mates, James and Peter. You'll meet them tomorrow night at the start-of-term banquet." He eyed me up and down for a moment before asking, "So how are you feeling tonight? You're looking a hell of a lot better than you did when I found you."

"Er—yeah, I'm feeling fine. Much better, actually," I said, hoping he'd leave the conversation alone.

I was wrong.

"So, how did you wind up in the Great Hall like that? Looking like that? If you don't mind me asking." He paused, then added, "Unless it's one of those things that you can't tell me yet…" He sounded a little bitter at my secrecy.

I bit my lip so hard, I drew blood. What could I possibly tell him that would make sense?

Lie, Hermione. Just fucking lie.

Guiltily, I answered with a shrug, "It's not really a secret, I guess. I had a bit of a bad encounter with a Portkey—rough trip, you know. I was traveling all the way from America, so things didn't quite go as planned. I was supposed to end up in the Headmaster's Office, but for some reason, I landed in the Great Hall instead."

His eyebrows contracted in confusion. "From America?"

"Yeah, from America," I repeated. "I attended Ilvermorny for my first six years of school."

God, this little story is going to make the wand situation so much more complicated.

"Ilvermorny? Huh… very interesting. But you're British, right? I mean, your accent…"

"I'm originally from England, yes, but my mother and I moved to America when I was younger. She recently…" I stopped, choking a little on the words. The emotions were still very real to me, despite the lie—my own mother was essentially dead to me now. "She died last month. But my father lives in Britain, here in Scotland, actually. So that's why I'm back."

He reached across the tabled and placed his hand on top of mine in a comforting sort of gesture. The palm of his hand felt pleasantly warm against my skin. "I'm really sorry, Hermione. That's got to be horrible to deal with, especially being in a new place and all. But at least you have your dad, right?"

"Yeah, I'm glad I have him here. My dad and I have never been very close, though," I replied. Might as well make the lie believable. "I would only visit for a month or so every year, but hopefully now that I've returned, we'll have the chance to get to know each other properly."

He smiled kindly as he withdrew his hand, the corners of his eyes crinkling, just as my Sirius's had. "Well, if it helps, I'm glad you're here." His smile then became a bit more devious. "You're definitely keeping shit interesting so far. Do you know what house you'll be in yet?"

I sighed. This was a point of contention between me and Dumbledore. I was to be sorted before the start-of-term banquet along with the other new students. Personally, I thought I would look bloody ridiculous standing among all of the first years, and I'd requested to have a private sorting in the Headmaster's Office. But apparently, Dumbledore thought this might give off the wrong idea of favoritism.

"No, not yet," I frowned, shaking my head. "The school houses at Ilvermorny don't exactly line up with those at Hogwarts, and apparently, I'm to be sorted tomorrow evening at the feast with the first years. But I've read Hogwarts, A History, so I know all about the four houses."

"Well do you know which one you'd like to be in, given the choice?" he asked and, unless I was mistaken, there was a hint of hopefulness in his voice.

This was an opportunity I simply could not miss. I drew myself up, channeling my best Draco Malfoy impression, before responding, "Slytherin, of course! It really seems like the best house, don't you agree?" I capped it off with a haughty smirk for good measure.

He gaped at me, spluttering. "You—uh—Slytherin? The best house… what? I thought you said you were all right!"

I collapsed against the table in a fit of giggles as he continued to look at me as if I had just announced that I'd decided to run off to Greenland in search of Crumple-Horned Snorkacks.

"Your face!" I gasped, still laughing.

He continued to stare, utterly confused.

"Sorry, sorry! I'm only joking! Gryffindor," I said as I attempted to compose myself. "I think I'd like to be in Gryffindor."

His face relaxed and he literally sighed in relief. "Bloody fucking hell, woman, that's not the sort of thing you joke about."

Still giggling slightly, I shrugged. "It seemed like too good of an opportunity to pass up," I replied simply.

He started laughing too, his eyes dancing beautifully. "Oh I really hope you do end up in Gryffindor. James and Peter will fucking love you."

I sure hope so, Sirius. I really fucking hope so.


(A/N): So we're almost to the start of term! Many more characters will be introduced soon, so I thought I'd take this chance for S/H to have a little one-on-one time. What do you think? Is there anything specific you'd like to see in the upcoming chapters? Anything you don't? I'd love to know! And as always, thanks for reading :)

-liz