Disclaimer: I do not own "Harry Potter", etc, etc, etc. It all belongs to
J.K Rowling, except for stuff you don't recognize.
Summary: Some wounds may never heal . . .
**
*
~ Miles To Go Before I Sleep
- Chapter Two: Wrong
*
**
Hermione Granger decided that this had to be one of her less brilliant ideas. She had known, of course, that the Underground station was a pretty good distance from the Marauders' home, but she hadn't warranted on the chilly eeriness of the night as the sun set quickly, and the silent desertion of the streets as she left the suburbs.
The moon was a crescent, glowing dimly in the navy, star-studded sky above her. It was only thanks to those slivers of light that she could see her way at all; uneasy she might be out here, but she still had her senses fully about her and the responsible, wary side of her wouldn't allow her to unpack her wand and mutter 'Lumos' - not when there was the chance of a Muggle wandering around here, which was more than likely.
Crookshanks, her ginger cat, hissed beside her, and Hermione stiffened. Had her faithful bandy-legged pet heard something?
She stopped to listen, but there was nothing. Only the sounds of the trees rustling in the light wind, and the occasional hoot of an owl. Hermione almost wished she had even Hedwig's company right now to keep an eye on their surroundings.
"Don't be silly, 'Mione," she chided herself sharply, speaking out loud for the sole purpose of making herself feel less alone out there. "There's nothing here. If there was even the smallest chance of danger, don't you think one of the guys would have made sure to pick you up at the station?"
Although perhaps, a tiny whisper hissed inside her head, their being male, they didn't know some of the dangers that could lurk in wait for her . . .
The sound of Crookshanks spitting viciously made Hermione stop again. Was that a footstep she'd just heard in the bushes? Was someone following her?
Involuntarily, she shuddered.
"Hello?" she called, angry at how timid her voice sounded. "Is - is someone there?"
There was no response, but just as Hermione turned to hurry on her way, a shower of red sparks shot up into the air from the bushes a little ahead of her lining the path. Her heart nearly stopped.
There was no longer any doubt about it. There was a wizard close by, and the wizard could only be here for one reason - he (or she) was following her, and wanted her to know it . . .
For a brief instant, anger flashed inside her, overlapping the fear. "Who the hell are you?" she demanded angrily, irritated that any mindless witch or wizard was playing a stunt like this. "What do you want?"
She nearly screamed aloud and something suddenly flew out of the bushes and landed at her feet. Slowly, her hands trembling as she realized that her wand was packed deep into the Anti-Weight-charmed trunk to be reached easily; she reached down and picked up the object.
It was a tiny broomstick.
Hermione began to shake all over as a cold fear grasped her heart and panic overtook all senses. The toy brought back memories . . . memories that she feared and had thought would never return to haunt her . . . and now, now the message was all too clear: he was going to finish what he'd only just started.
// Run, 'Mione! // A voice screamed in the rational part of her brain, as Crookshanks hissed and spat. // Run before it's too late. //
But her legs weren't working.
This was wrong . . . this shouldn't have to happen. Tears burst forth from the voice inside her heart, screaming over and over again that this was wrong.
And then, a shadow moved in the bushes and the tall form finally uncurled and stepped out into the starlight, strolling towards her, a terrible smile lighting up those harsh features. Hermione stood frozen, knees buckling, and wondered if she'd be lucky enough to die.
***
"She's late." Sirius stated, looking at the clock on the wall.
"By five minutes, Sirius," Ron said uneasily, glancing across at Harry. "Try not to be so jumpy, mate, you're making us all edgy."
Sirius banged his fist against the wall as he stood at the window, glaring out into the darkened country lane. "Maybe we should - "
"Sirius, Hermione will KILL you if she finds out we're running out looking for her," Harry reminded him. "Don't forget that if there's one thing she hates, it's being made to feel weak, and don't forget, also, that she warned us not to send up red sparks if she was a little late."
"Yeah, maybe she took a break or something," Ron offered helpfully, rumpling up his red hair self-consciously. "Can't expect anyone to walk the miles straight without a moment's pause."
"But - " Sirius broke off and turned to look at Remus, who had just come into the room after starting dinner in the kitchen. "Moony, what do you think we should do?"
"Do?" the slightly older man questioned mildly. "Why 'do' anything, Sirius?"
"Hermione's never late."
"This would hardly count as the Yule Ball, would it, Padfoot? She's under no time obligation."
Harry and Ron seemed to be on the verge of grins at that, but at Sirius's scowl, they refrained from doing so. It seemed that Sirius had grown more paternal over the past few months - or at least, that was what they assumed.
"Remus," Sirius began, obviously (and correctly) deeming Harry and Ron beneath his arguing capacity and instead focusing on his only remaining best friend, "What if some drunken loony followed her from one of those Muggle places - bars? Or what if Draco Malfoy or one of Snape's types are out to play some reckless prank - "
"My, my," Remus seemed amused for a moment. "The pot calling the kettle black!"
At that, Sirius grinned, and the two watching teenagers were free to laugh, but the Animagus soon sobered and scowled out of the window again. "Dammit, where IS - Merlin's beard!" he yelled suddenly.
"What?" both Harry and Ron demanded together, leaping for the window while Remus approached at a more controlled pace.
"Isn't that 'Mione?" Sirius pointed out of the window, surprise etching every feature of his face.
It was certainly Hermione, judging by the trunk and the ginger cat bounding alongside her, but they may not have recognized her had Sirius not been watching the lane so carefully. None of them had ever seen Hermione run the way she was at the moment, in such a fully-fledged, lamb-with-a-broken-leg manner.
"Something's wrong." The words slipped out of Harry's mouth before he could stop them.
Sirius looked at him sharply as Hermione disappeared out of sight into the yard of the house, and felt a churn of terrible foreboding.
It took an unusually long time for Hermione to ring the doorbell, a space of seconds that the four male occupants of the room spent staring at each other in silence, apprehension and concern filling every single pair of eyes.
When the chime rang through the house at last, Remus was the first to recover and hurry to the door.
"Hermione?" he called gently as he reached the door. "That you?"
No response.
Sirius felt his heart pounding, and with almost agonizing slowness, Remus unlatched the bolt of the front door and pulled it open.
With the lights of the country house shining around her, they could see Hermione clearly now, and the sight before them filled them with shock, fear and horror - the kind that they'd never thought they'd feel again.
Her trunk bobbed at her feet lightly, but her Muggle clothes - jeans and tee shirt - were soiled and ripped in places. Her hair, which hadn't been bushy for a while, was a tousled mess, a few locks caked with dark red that looked terrifyingly like -
Blood.
Sirius's mind began to spin. It was there, on her face, a slash of blood across her forehead, oozing a trickle down the side of her face, down past the black-and-blue bruise surrounding her right eye and onto her neck, where bruises and cuts seemed to have created their playground. There were patches of dirt and blood on her clothes as well, especially on her jeans . . .
// No, // some hoarse cry exploded somewhere in Sirius's chest, // Please, no! //
She just stood there, blinking in the sudden light like a deer caught in the headlights of a car, and they stood frozen, unable to believe what they were seeing. Only the paleness of Ron's face, the darkness of Harry's green eyes and the stark horror in Remus's normally mild gray eyes told Sirius that they were seeing exactly what he saw.
They were only able to react when Crookshanks leaped eagerly into Sirius's limp arms, at the same moment that Hermione's eyes and legs gave way and she fell to the ground in a dead faint . . .
***
When Hermione opened her eyes again, Ron and Harry were beside her, Ron stroking her cleaned hair gently while Harry held her hand tightly. Remus knelt on the carpet beside the couch, wiping her face and forehead gently with a damp napkin and gauze bandages, not wanting to cast any healing charm until she was fully conscious.
As her eyelids flickered open, she seemed to see Sirius, standing nearby, a turmoil going on inside him, first.
"Pad - Padfoot?" she croaked, her soft mouth lifting slightly in a smile. "Hey."
He couldn't speak; he found his throat was suddenly too tight.
Luckily, Harry and Ron managed to take over from him and gently assured Hermione everything was all right. Slowly, a haunted, hunted look stole into her eyes and as she tried, feebly, to tell them that she'd just fallen over and that nothing serious had happened to her, that look in her brown eyes was enough to confirm Sirius's worst fears.
Rooted to the spot, he found he couldn't move and couldn't speak - and it was only when she finally fell asleep - partly due to a draught Remus conjured up for her - that he rediscovered his faculties.
"That's bullshit." He bit out, his voice shaking.
They looked at him. "What is?" Harry asked softly.
"She - telling us that nothing happened - she can't admit it - it's not true." It was amazing; he thought wryly, how much it hurt to know what had happened to one of the few people he truly cared about.
"You've seen the signs before, haven't you, Padfoot?" Remus asked him gently. "You know as well as I do what really happened."
"And what did happen?" Harry's voice was slow, as if he dreaded hearing the answer. Ron's eyes remained fixed to Hermione's pale, silent, closed face.
Sirius swallowed hard. "She - she was - " he couldn't say it " - violated."
"WHAT?" Ron leaped up in rage. "Are you telling me she was RA - "
"Shh, Ron!" Harry snapped. "She'll wake up."
"Sorry."
"I'm afraid Sirius is right," Remus nodded, and Sirius, through his burning anguish, saw a glimmer of tears in the other wizard's eyes. "I can't exactly give you medical proof, and it's a real pity we have no other female companion here right now, but I don't think it would wise to call anyone or get anyone else involved. It would only, under the circumstances, hurt or humiliate Hermione further."
Ron and Harry were silent for a long moment, both obviously struggling with the shock of it. Then -
"This is wrong. This is so damned wrong. She didn't deserve this!" Harry sounded like he was fighting back something powerful, and Sirius understood how he felt and managed to reach out and squeeze his godson's shoulder. Then Harry added: "Was it a wizard?" His voice was barely above a whisper. "Or a Muggle?"
"Wizard, I'd say," Remus said shrewdly, voicing Sirius's open opinion. "She's much to powerful to not be able to overcome a Muggle, even without the use of her wand, but an armed wizard - " he paused and then said quietly, " - he obviously tracked her specifically; she was a target. Not many wizards roam this area, so if one got close enough to Hermione, that only means - "
"It was planned. She knows him."
Sirius was surprised at the sound of his own voice. Never before had he heard it sound so quiet, yet so full of intense anger and emotion.
They all looked at each other, all thinking the same thing. Finally, it was Ron who managed to find the heart to voice it:
"I guess that leaves only one question and another thing for us to do for her," his tone was flat, almost dead. "Which of our many magical male buddies is he?"
** TBC.
**
A/N: I don't know whether people expected this, and I hope that this chapter wasn't a disappointment. To those who objected to the 'fluff' in the previous chapter, it was just there to set a scene, and sometimes, a little fluff is needed to lighten up what might otherwise be depressing. Anyway, thanks a lot to everyone who reviewed and please continue! Enjoy the story!
By the way, I read OOTP long before I wrote this, so this is actually A/U (Poor Sirius, *sob*!)
Summary: Some wounds may never heal . . .
**
*
~ Miles To Go Before I Sleep
- Chapter Two: Wrong
*
**
Hermione Granger decided that this had to be one of her less brilliant ideas. She had known, of course, that the Underground station was a pretty good distance from the Marauders' home, but she hadn't warranted on the chilly eeriness of the night as the sun set quickly, and the silent desertion of the streets as she left the suburbs.
The moon was a crescent, glowing dimly in the navy, star-studded sky above her. It was only thanks to those slivers of light that she could see her way at all; uneasy she might be out here, but she still had her senses fully about her and the responsible, wary side of her wouldn't allow her to unpack her wand and mutter 'Lumos' - not when there was the chance of a Muggle wandering around here, which was more than likely.
Crookshanks, her ginger cat, hissed beside her, and Hermione stiffened. Had her faithful bandy-legged pet heard something?
She stopped to listen, but there was nothing. Only the sounds of the trees rustling in the light wind, and the occasional hoot of an owl. Hermione almost wished she had even Hedwig's company right now to keep an eye on their surroundings.
"Don't be silly, 'Mione," she chided herself sharply, speaking out loud for the sole purpose of making herself feel less alone out there. "There's nothing here. If there was even the smallest chance of danger, don't you think one of the guys would have made sure to pick you up at the station?"
Although perhaps, a tiny whisper hissed inside her head, their being male, they didn't know some of the dangers that could lurk in wait for her . . .
The sound of Crookshanks spitting viciously made Hermione stop again. Was that a footstep she'd just heard in the bushes? Was someone following her?
Involuntarily, she shuddered.
"Hello?" she called, angry at how timid her voice sounded. "Is - is someone there?"
There was no response, but just as Hermione turned to hurry on her way, a shower of red sparks shot up into the air from the bushes a little ahead of her lining the path. Her heart nearly stopped.
There was no longer any doubt about it. There was a wizard close by, and the wizard could only be here for one reason - he (or she) was following her, and wanted her to know it . . .
For a brief instant, anger flashed inside her, overlapping the fear. "Who the hell are you?" she demanded angrily, irritated that any mindless witch or wizard was playing a stunt like this. "What do you want?"
She nearly screamed aloud and something suddenly flew out of the bushes and landed at her feet. Slowly, her hands trembling as she realized that her wand was packed deep into the Anti-Weight-charmed trunk to be reached easily; she reached down and picked up the object.
It was a tiny broomstick.
Hermione began to shake all over as a cold fear grasped her heart and panic overtook all senses. The toy brought back memories . . . memories that she feared and had thought would never return to haunt her . . . and now, now the message was all too clear: he was going to finish what he'd only just started.
// Run, 'Mione! // A voice screamed in the rational part of her brain, as Crookshanks hissed and spat. // Run before it's too late. //
But her legs weren't working.
This was wrong . . . this shouldn't have to happen. Tears burst forth from the voice inside her heart, screaming over and over again that this was wrong.
And then, a shadow moved in the bushes and the tall form finally uncurled and stepped out into the starlight, strolling towards her, a terrible smile lighting up those harsh features. Hermione stood frozen, knees buckling, and wondered if she'd be lucky enough to die.
***
"She's late." Sirius stated, looking at the clock on the wall.
"By five minutes, Sirius," Ron said uneasily, glancing across at Harry. "Try not to be so jumpy, mate, you're making us all edgy."
Sirius banged his fist against the wall as he stood at the window, glaring out into the darkened country lane. "Maybe we should - "
"Sirius, Hermione will KILL you if she finds out we're running out looking for her," Harry reminded him. "Don't forget that if there's one thing she hates, it's being made to feel weak, and don't forget, also, that she warned us not to send up red sparks if she was a little late."
"Yeah, maybe she took a break or something," Ron offered helpfully, rumpling up his red hair self-consciously. "Can't expect anyone to walk the miles straight without a moment's pause."
"But - " Sirius broke off and turned to look at Remus, who had just come into the room after starting dinner in the kitchen. "Moony, what do you think we should do?"
"Do?" the slightly older man questioned mildly. "Why 'do' anything, Sirius?"
"Hermione's never late."
"This would hardly count as the Yule Ball, would it, Padfoot? She's under no time obligation."
Harry and Ron seemed to be on the verge of grins at that, but at Sirius's scowl, they refrained from doing so. It seemed that Sirius had grown more paternal over the past few months - or at least, that was what they assumed.
"Remus," Sirius began, obviously (and correctly) deeming Harry and Ron beneath his arguing capacity and instead focusing on his only remaining best friend, "What if some drunken loony followed her from one of those Muggle places - bars? Or what if Draco Malfoy or one of Snape's types are out to play some reckless prank - "
"My, my," Remus seemed amused for a moment. "The pot calling the kettle black!"
At that, Sirius grinned, and the two watching teenagers were free to laugh, but the Animagus soon sobered and scowled out of the window again. "Dammit, where IS - Merlin's beard!" he yelled suddenly.
"What?" both Harry and Ron demanded together, leaping for the window while Remus approached at a more controlled pace.
"Isn't that 'Mione?" Sirius pointed out of the window, surprise etching every feature of his face.
It was certainly Hermione, judging by the trunk and the ginger cat bounding alongside her, but they may not have recognized her had Sirius not been watching the lane so carefully. None of them had ever seen Hermione run the way she was at the moment, in such a fully-fledged, lamb-with-a-broken-leg manner.
"Something's wrong." The words slipped out of Harry's mouth before he could stop them.
Sirius looked at him sharply as Hermione disappeared out of sight into the yard of the house, and felt a churn of terrible foreboding.
It took an unusually long time for Hermione to ring the doorbell, a space of seconds that the four male occupants of the room spent staring at each other in silence, apprehension and concern filling every single pair of eyes.
When the chime rang through the house at last, Remus was the first to recover and hurry to the door.
"Hermione?" he called gently as he reached the door. "That you?"
No response.
Sirius felt his heart pounding, and with almost agonizing slowness, Remus unlatched the bolt of the front door and pulled it open.
With the lights of the country house shining around her, they could see Hermione clearly now, and the sight before them filled them with shock, fear and horror - the kind that they'd never thought they'd feel again.
Her trunk bobbed at her feet lightly, but her Muggle clothes - jeans and tee shirt - were soiled and ripped in places. Her hair, which hadn't been bushy for a while, was a tousled mess, a few locks caked with dark red that looked terrifyingly like -
Blood.
Sirius's mind began to spin. It was there, on her face, a slash of blood across her forehead, oozing a trickle down the side of her face, down past the black-and-blue bruise surrounding her right eye and onto her neck, where bruises and cuts seemed to have created their playground. There were patches of dirt and blood on her clothes as well, especially on her jeans . . .
// No, // some hoarse cry exploded somewhere in Sirius's chest, // Please, no! //
She just stood there, blinking in the sudden light like a deer caught in the headlights of a car, and they stood frozen, unable to believe what they were seeing. Only the paleness of Ron's face, the darkness of Harry's green eyes and the stark horror in Remus's normally mild gray eyes told Sirius that they were seeing exactly what he saw.
They were only able to react when Crookshanks leaped eagerly into Sirius's limp arms, at the same moment that Hermione's eyes and legs gave way and she fell to the ground in a dead faint . . .
***
When Hermione opened her eyes again, Ron and Harry were beside her, Ron stroking her cleaned hair gently while Harry held her hand tightly. Remus knelt on the carpet beside the couch, wiping her face and forehead gently with a damp napkin and gauze bandages, not wanting to cast any healing charm until she was fully conscious.
As her eyelids flickered open, she seemed to see Sirius, standing nearby, a turmoil going on inside him, first.
"Pad - Padfoot?" she croaked, her soft mouth lifting slightly in a smile. "Hey."
He couldn't speak; he found his throat was suddenly too tight.
Luckily, Harry and Ron managed to take over from him and gently assured Hermione everything was all right. Slowly, a haunted, hunted look stole into her eyes and as she tried, feebly, to tell them that she'd just fallen over and that nothing serious had happened to her, that look in her brown eyes was enough to confirm Sirius's worst fears.
Rooted to the spot, he found he couldn't move and couldn't speak - and it was only when she finally fell asleep - partly due to a draught Remus conjured up for her - that he rediscovered his faculties.
"That's bullshit." He bit out, his voice shaking.
They looked at him. "What is?" Harry asked softly.
"She - telling us that nothing happened - she can't admit it - it's not true." It was amazing; he thought wryly, how much it hurt to know what had happened to one of the few people he truly cared about.
"You've seen the signs before, haven't you, Padfoot?" Remus asked him gently. "You know as well as I do what really happened."
"And what did happen?" Harry's voice was slow, as if he dreaded hearing the answer. Ron's eyes remained fixed to Hermione's pale, silent, closed face.
Sirius swallowed hard. "She - she was - " he couldn't say it " - violated."
"WHAT?" Ron leaped up in rage. "Are you telling me she was RA - "
"Shh, Ron!" Harry snapped. "She'll wake up."
"Sorry."
"I'm afraid Sirius is right," Remus nodded, and Sirius, through his burning anguish, saw a glimmer of tears in the other wizard's eyes. "I can't exactly give you medical proof, and it's a real pity we have no other female companion here right now, but I don't think it would wise to call anyone or get anyone else involved. It would only, under the circumstances, hurt or humiliate Hermione further."
Ron and Harry were silent for a long moment, both obviously struggling with the shock of it. Then -
"This is wrong. This is so damned wrong. She didn't deserve this!" Harry sounded like he was fighting back something powerful, and Sirius understood how he felt and managed to reach out and squeeze his godson's shoulder. Then Harry added: "Was it a wizard?" His voice was barely above a whisper. "Or a Muggle?"
"Wizard, I'd say," Remus said shrewdly, voicing Sirius's open opinion. "She's much to powerful to not be able to overcome a Muggle, even without the use of her wand, but an armed wizard - " he paused and then said quietly, " - he obviously tracked her specifically; she was a target. Not many wizards roam this area, so if one got close enough to Hermione, that only means - "
"It was planned. She knows him."
Sirius was surprised at the sound of his own voice. Never before had he heard it sound so quiet, yet so full of intense anger and emotion.
They all looked at each other, all thinking the same thing. Finally, it was Ron who managed to find the heart to voice it:
"I guess that leaves only one question and another thing for us to do for her," his tone was flat, almost dead. "Which of our many magical male buddies is he?"
** TBC.
**
A/N: I don't know whether people expected this, and I hope that this chapter wasn't a disappointment. To those who objected to the 'fluff' in the previous chapter, it was just there to set a scene, and sometimes, a little fluff is needed to lighten up what might otherwise be depressing. Anyway, thanks a lot to everyone who reviewed and please continue! Enjoy the story!
By the way, I read OOTP long before I wrote this, so this is actually A/U (Poor Sirius, *sob*!)