This chapter is for Fallen Angel of Hell and Siriusly Mione
Chapter 19
An Old Friend
Hermione had been so focused on her mission and Sirius that she'd forgotten that there was an old friend at Hogwarts, one she knew well. One that was still living in her time. She couldn't believe she hadn't thought of going to see him.
Walking down the long stretch of grass Hermione beheld the old hut, the hut that had been a refuge to her in her third year.
"Exactly where are we going?" A confused Sirius asked Hermione.
Hermione's heart was joyful. "You'll see." She walked closer and closer to the destination, Sirius at her side (Where he belonged.).
"Hagrid!" Hermione cried, running down the slope to the front door of Hagrid's hut. She knocked wildly, anxious to see a familiar face.
Hagrid opened the door, looking much younger than Hermione knew. He had less hair, though not enough to make him any less giantlike. "Yes?" he asked, perplexed.
Hermione didn't wait to introduce herself, she simply hugged the large man happily. Both Hagrid and Sirius looked at each other as if Hermione had gone mad.
"Er–who are you?" Hagrid asked nervously. "Do I know you?"
"No...oh," Hermione murmured, remembering this Hagrid had no idea who she was. "I'm Hermione Granger. I'm sorry. I mistook you for someone else."
"It's all right," Hagrid assured her. "Why, I once thought a ticket broker was my uncle Wilius."
Hermione smiled. She had missed him. Then she realized she had missed someone else. "Oh! This is my boyfriend, Sirius." Hermione gestured lovingly to the god standing next to her.
"Sirius, eh?" Hagrid said, appraising him. "You the one who put Stinksap in Flitwick's desk?"
Instead of denying it, Sirius drew himself up proudly. "Yep, that was me and James." Hagrid chuckled. They went inside his hut. Hermione sat down and absentmindedly carved a little 'S' for Sirius in the wooden table. Then a thought struck her.
"So Ron, Hermione, when did you finally realize you were meant for each other?" Hermione blushed and let Ron answer the question. "Took me a long time, Hagrid, but I finally did." Hermione smiled at Ron with adoration as she sat at Hagrid's table absentmindedly rubbing a small carved 'S' in the wood. She often liked to imagine what the letter stood for.
". . .but in the last few years the Death Eaters have been growing in number," Sirius was saying to Hagrid.
"Seems to me that their number will grow stronger till they've got themselves an army," Hagrid said seriously.
Sirius snorted. "I think we can lick them. The Death Eaters won't get very far, mark my words."
The sheer ignorance and irony of his words struck Hermione. "Can you be so sure, Sirius?" Hermione asked. "Their leader's growing in power, and if we don't do something. . ." She couldn't tell him anything.
Sirius and Hagrid waited for her to finish her sentence. "Never mind," she said lamely. Sirius reached for Hagrid's special cakes. He offered one to Hermione, but she had found out about Hagrid's cooking the hard way. Sirius shrugged, took a particularly big cake, and before Hermione could warn him, took a huge bite. She waited for his reaction.
"Not bad," he said matter-of-factly.
She laughed. That was her Sirius.
***
When they left Hagrid, Hermione turned to Sirius. "Sirius? Could we do something?"
"What?"
"Something we've never done before," she told him. "Something that just the two of us can do."
Sirius edged closer to her. "I'm intrigued. What are we going to do?" ***
Inside the Room of Requirement candles were lit and the room was only dim enough to see by. A fire crackled, and in the middle of a cozy sofa Hermione and Sirius sat.
". . .we were all going direct to heaven, we were all going direct the other way. In short, the period was so far like the present period, that some of its noisiest authorities insisted on its being received, for good or for evil, in the superlative degree of comparison only," Hermione read. She passed the book to Sirius and settled into his arms to listen to his strong voice.
"There were a king with a large jaw and a queen with a fair face on the throne of England; there were a king with a large jaw and a queen with a fair face, on the throne of France..." Sirius read. Hermione stroked his face as he read, closed her eyes and let his voice take her to faraway places.
Disclaimer: I do not own A Tale of Two Cities, thank God. It belongs to Charles Dickens.