I Want the Fire Back

Summary: Hermione is obsolete – the War is over, Harry and Ron are busy, and she the mere Charms teacher at Hogwarts. When a presumably dead man comes back better than ever, she suddenly means everything... to him. SiHr

Rating: R for language, themes, sex, and whatever else may come out of my twisted little mind.

Disclaimer: It's not me who owns these characters or any plots associated with the Harry Potter books.

amber: Please refrain from saying there isn't any foreshadowing in my story, thanks. It may not be specific enough, though, the little that there is. I said if anyone is confused, then it would all be explained in the next chapter. And as for the father issue – I'm very surprised no one figured it out – it's quite obvious, I believe. And this was not a last-minute addition, but it may still be a tricky road. Lol.

Chapter 19: Stuck

Why in the hell did I just say that? Hermione swung her gaze from the floor to meet Sirius', which was blank with shock. She took a step back, then another. She hadn't even given him any warning – she had not planned on telling him like that. It was just the pressure of a New Year and starting over and… it had been so hard to hide it from him in the first place… Oh God, please… Please help me…

Sirius' mind was not nearly as active in continuous thoughts as Hermione's was. His only even remotely coherent thought was, WHAT?

So he voiced it.

She winced at the harsh tone he had used without realizing it, but she bravely carried on. "A son… he'd be seven months old, I believe…"

Sirius' mind seemed to come back into the working force as that information clicked into his head. He had met Hermione four months ago, in September. Her son would have been born three months before. Nine months before that… was the night that Lucius Malfoy had raped her...

Unwilling to believe that, he choked out a strangled, "Who… who's the…?"

Eyes filling with tears she had shed so many times before, her gaze still locked on the floor, she whispered, "Lucius Malfoy." Why she added the Malfoy part, she did not know, but that was the piece that hit Sirius so viciously.

He had now slid off the counter, but was finding it difficult to support his own weight, and was now seated on the floor, a vacant expression on his face.

"Where is he?" his voice was void of all and every emotion as he stared blankly into space, his body crumpled and motionless.

"I don't know," Hermione shook her head, now sobbing. This isn't right… why did I have to say anything? No one else mentions it… He never would have found out.

Sirius stood up, his legs shaky, but didn't even take the time to allow his body to become more stable. He walked out the door without a second glance.

Hermione heaved a great sob as she crippled under her own weight. Sliding down the side of the counter, her hair caught on one of the drawer handles, but she took no notice. The lock of hair ripped from her head under her body's weight, and she cried harder from the pain. Pain was the only thing she could feel at the moment… Pain from what Lucius had done to her, what he caused her to go through so long ago… what he was still causing her to go through now.

All of her friends had told her that as soon as she had the child, it would be swept away, and she could forget it all. Only thing was, Hermione Granger refused to receive any sort of memory charm. Not because she wanted to remember, but because she deserved to. If she was worthy of that treatment, then she was worthy of remembering it.

She remembered walking down the hall of Harry and Ron's apartment two months after the child had been born. She hadn't seen him since. Harry had insisted that Hermione stay with them, knowing that she was in no condition to take care of herself. Many people already thought her mind had broken… thought she was mad from her experiences, the horror she had locked in the darkest, most reticent depths of her mind.

She recalled what she heard that day…

"She's not crazy, Professor!" Harry's voice. Good, old reliable Harry. Harry who had not been there to keep that bastard from violating every inch of her skin and taking her body for his own.

"I know that, Mr. Potter. Miss – Hermione is much too strong… I believe that she has survived the whole ordeal with the same rather powerful mind that she's always had. The point I was trying to bring to your attention is that she perhaps does not the see the light anymore." Dumbledore. Cryptic as ever.

"Light of what?" Ron snarled. Ron… her old lover. He hadn't been there when she was kidnapped. He had not saved her. He hadn't even tried.

"The War is over, Mr. Weasley – and it has been so for a very long time. Miss Granger has not noticed this – she has not noticed much of anything, I would say. She needs to be brought back… to the land of the living, you could say."

She had too noticed. What she didn't notice was the fact that she should be happy because of it.

"How do you suppose we do that?" Harry again. His voice quieter, subdued, afraid to let her go back into the real world. Afraid to let her out of his sight. Afraid to let her live.

"I'm going to offer Miss Granger the now open position of Charms professor at Hogwarts." Said with admirable simplicity. Simplicity that was not at all alike to the situation in which it was associated.

"What? You can't do that! She-"

"She's not ready, sir! I mean-"

Then she had walked away. Her feet made quiet slapping noises as they hit the linoleum floor and her robe clung to her legs as she moved further from the doorway she had stood unnoticed at.

They had not wanted her to leave them. They said they cared about her – did not want her to get hurt. But it was their fault that she had gotten hurt in the first place. They had not been there to protect her when she needed them most. They had failed her horribly… more horribly than she had ever thought they could.

Sirius was right the day he had confronted Hermione with the fact of the Golden Trio drifting apart – he was so unbelievably right, he couldn't even begin to see just how much.

She took the job. Of course she took it – she could not stand to be around her two best friends that had not done their job.

One thing about Dumbledore that she really appreciated was the way he spoke to her when he visited. He did not speak as if she were some sort of idiot, or some sort of insane mental patient. He spoke to her as he always had, with the same encouraging smile – the only difference was that vibrant twinkle in his eye. When he spoke to her, the light was gone – and in a weird, deranged way – Hermione liked it. It made her feel that the Headmaster felt enough guilt for her misfortune that he couldn't bring himself to look as cheery and positive as he had before. It made her feel like he knew he hadn't been there for her.

One month later, a version of the old Hermione Granger had resurfaced. She threw herself into her work to forget her loneliness, and she managed to avoid thinking about her child. And on one night, as any other, she avoided sleeping right away because of the nightmares, and as a result of fatigue and boredom, had come across her fate.

A fate that she had never thought she would receive – a good one. One filled with love and acceptance, with cherishment and joy, with mirth and humor - and most of all - a future.

She spiraled into a world of happiness, too thrilled to care about her past. It was enough that she had told him about the rape – he needn't know about the child. Her own parents didn't know about the child – all nine months that she had carried it, she had stayed with Ron and Harry. There were only six people who were aware of its existence – Harry, Ron, Remus, Dumbledore, McGonagall, and Ginny. And it was a good thing Draco never found out – he could hardly look her in the eye as it was, with what his father had done. He couldn't stand to be alone with Hermione – guilt emerged from places he didn't know existed, and it was nearly unbearable. He always felt the guilt from his father's actions – he was the Malfoy heir, after all. It came with the fortune.

Now, as she lay on the kitchen floor four months later, she cried. She cried for it all – all she had lost; her innocence, her firstborn child, her best friends, her trust, and now the one thing that had given all of that back temporarily – her lover.

Just when she had thought the crying would stop, it returned and now had promise of eternal existence.

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He couldn't even think straight – a thousand and one emotions were filling him, not to mention a thousand more thoughts and questions. It felt like someone had thrown him in a dark room, covered him with a thick blanket, and beat him until he was senseless and confused beyond belief.

He felt betrayed by Hermione – she had kept something so huge from him… He wasn't sure if he could trust her anymore. A child? How could she hide that from me? Why didn't she tell me before?

And most of all… Why did he feel so jealous?

Well he knew why… Hermione had a son – he wasn't the father. Not that it was her fault, or his.

Without realizing it, Sirius had already reached Remus' door. Thankfully the werewolf answered his insistent knocking after a few seconds.

"Sirius, what-?" he began, rubbing his tired looking amber eyes as he surveyed his friend.

"Remus, I need to talk to you. Now." Without waiting for an invite, the black haired man walked into the quarters and flopped down heavily on the couch.

"Padfoot? What's wrong?" Remus, more alert than before, sat down across from his friend and leaned forward eagerly. He placed his elbows on his thighs and clasped his hands together, studying his friend's shell shocked expression.

"She… she has a son?" A question, not a statement, not a declaration of fact.

Lupin's face lost some of the scant color it usually contained. "She… she told you, did she?"

"You knew, of course. I bet you all knew," Sirius laughed inanely, as his eyes focused on something below Remus' gaze.

"Only a few of us know, Sirius. Hermione's own parents don't even know. I'm surprised that she told you…"

Sirius snorted. "Why's that? She can't trust me?"

"Don't be thick," Remus snapped, his eyes flashing. During Sirius' absence, he and the young woman had grown quite close, and he was rather protective of her. "That girl… she's been through so much, Padfoot. There wasn't a period in which at least one of us thought she had gone mad… all but Dumbledore. He never lost faith in her."

"He wouldn't – the man still has faith in the Longbottoms, Remus."

Remus cocked his head to the side and spoke evenly, "Are you angry with her?"

"Oh, is it a little noticeable?" he snarled at first, but at his friend's glare, attempted to sort his thoughts out a tad more. "Angry, yes – for not telling me sooner. But…" Sirius sighed – it was obvious the next statement was not easy for him to express. "I can't really blame her, can I? She must have wanted to forget it ever happened." Running a hand through his hair, he sighed again, causing Remus to believe his friend may deflate from all of the air releasing occurring.

"What brought it up?"

"See, that's the thing I don't know! She just kinda pounced it on me! No warning or anything… I was just eating some cookies, and…"

"You are aware that we just ate, right?" Remus smiled, hoping to lighten the dreary mood.

Sirius chuckled. "That's what she said…"

"You love her, Padfoot, and I'm betting she's feeling a little… well, scared to hell right now, the way you just stormed out of there."

"How do you know I stormed out?" Sirius growled, frustrated at his friend for being so damn accurate all the time.

"You're the storming out type," Remus dismissed with a wave of his hand, "Now – are you going to go see her, or stay for a bit?"

His friend considered his options for a moment. He felt utterly jumbled, as if his thoughts and emotions were thrown into a giant mixing bowl and blended up to become unrecognizable. It would be no use to rush right back to her in the condition he was in. He needed to relax, talk a little more. Sirius smiled slightly, "You have any more fire whiskey?"

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Sirius tumbled through the corridor, his mind blissfully happy at the moment. Although Remus had warned him not to leave before casting a sobriety charm, he just promised his friend that he would perform one and staggered through the door.

Now he was standing outside Hermione's portrait entrance, groping blindly for his wand, his eyes horribly unfocused, hoping that he was indeed at the correct painting.

He mumbled the charm, luckily not slurring horribly enough so that it was useless, and shook his head to clear it.

Alright, Black. You can do this – you've been through worse.

He whispered the password and clenched his left hand together nervously. He really hoped she wasn't bawling her eyes out uncontrollably.

But to his surprise, she was not – instead, she lay curled up on the floor in the fetal position, as she had been minutes after he had left a couple hours ago. Her eyes were open and blinked rarely, her gaze empty.

"'Mione?" She whimpered as he scooped her into his arms after tossing his wand down. He realized he needed to get through to her. Moony had warned him that she was apt to become dazed for long periods of time, her mind weak and vulnerable. "I love you. And like I've said before, you're stuck with me… No matter what."

Her stare seemed to soften, but she remained silent, her eyes blinking slowly. Is he really here? Is he actually doing this?

She was reassured completely when he placed a soft kiss on her temple, whispering the command to sleep.

The least she could do was comply.

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A/N: I hate this chapter, but it needed to be written. If you're still confused about anything, tell me in your review and I'll clear it up in the next, much more interesting chapter. Savvy?

Review please!