Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to Harry Potter and his fictional universe. However, I am allowing myself to borrow them for the moment. I hope Mme. J.K. Rowling and all of her lawyers forgive me, and I promise to return the material to her intact.

A/N: I wrote the opening of this chapter during Health Class, so forgive me if it seems to drag. I was merely trying to absorb my time into something constructive. I hope all of you understand, as I know you will. Moreover, if you don't, screw you.

May I state the oddness that a lawyer helped me writer this chapter. Much Kudos to my English teacher's father, if he happens to be reading this.

"Uncle Douglas" is derived from a member of my family, except that he is my third cousin, twice removed. His hair is completely grey. The only reason I associated him with Mr. Bess is I recall "Cousin Doug" sending us a Christmas Card recently.

Sleepless Nights

Chapter Four:

Bye Bye Blackbird

"Pack up all my cares and woe

Feeling low

Here I go

I say 'Bye bye Blackbird."

"Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth?"

"I do."

"Please be seated."

A man in formal black robes with thin white pinstripes running vertically to the ground stood up from behind a table, took off his glasses, and rubbed the bridge of his nose. He sighed and replaced the glasses back upon his face. Hermione noticed with sympathy the jet-black hair turning grey at his temples, and was oddly reminded of her Uncle Douglas.

He approached the stand. "Could you please state your name for the record?"

"Hermione Elizabeth Granger, sir."

"And you are in Gryffindor house at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry?"

"Yes, sir. I'm also Head Girl."

"I didn't ask for a title," he sneered.

"I'm sorry, sir."

He leaned forward and put his forearms on the wood. He smiled at her with sparkling teeth, and Hermione found herself wanting to make a few holes in them. "Miss Granger, do you have a cat?"

"Yes, sir. His name is Crookshanks." She grinned fondly.

"And does he eat mice?"

"Not that I know of. He likes gnomes and birds, sometimes squirrels, but he hasn't brought me a mouse in ages."

"Does that mean he's brought you a mouse before?"

"Yes, but it wasn't Scabbers."

"I didn't ask that, Miss Granger." He glanced at the judge.

"But you were going to."

"You don't know that."

"It was fairly obvious," she snapped.

The judge rapped on his pedestal. "Miss Granger, It would behoove you if you could please keep the contempt out of your voice."

"I'm sorry, sir."

"Please proceed with the prosecution."

"Thank you, your Honor. Now, Miss Granger, was there an incident in your third year where Mr. Ronald Weasley found blood and rat hairs on his sheets?"

"Yes, there was, but Scabbers - "

"Miss Granger, if you'll just answer the questions I ask you -" Mr. Bess snarled.

"Objection!" Sirius's attorney shouted. "He's not letting the witness tell the 'whole truth,' which she swore to do!"

"Sustained. Mr. Bess, if you would please finish this." The judge glared at the barrister, and the man seemed to wither.

"With pleasure, your Honor. Miss Granger, I have one last question. How long have you been in contact with Mr. Black without reporting it to the Ministry of Magic?"

Hermione blushed, slumped down in her chair, and mumbled a few incomprehensible words.

"Could you please speak up, Miss Granger? The judge would like to hear this." He was clearly mocking her, and that sense of triumph caused him to flash another brilliant smile.

She looked up, and in a tone that contained every possible ounce of poison she could summon from her body, she said, "Almost four years."

The courtroom gasped dramatically, and the judge shook his head to himself. Hermione caught a few whispered words that sounded like, "Damn those courtroom dramas…"

Mr. Bess flashed that nasty grin once more. "The prosecution rests."

Mr. Porgy, the Defense Attorney, stood up and cleared his throat. His hands clung to his coat, and Hermione saw Atticus for a brief cinematic flash. "Miss Granger, you tried to tell the court that you are Head Girl?"

"Yes, sir. I did."

He glanced down briefly at his notes. "I see. You were also a prefect in your fifth and sixth years?"

"Yes, sir."

"And you were always, in the six years you've completed so far, at the top of all your classes?"

"I believe I was the top of my year, sir."

"Oh, yes! Here it is!" He tapped his finger on a paper to illustrate his point. "I apologize." He began to saunter towards the box. "Miss Granger, would you consider yourself to rely only upon fact?"

Hermione paused. "I'd say approximately 99.9% of the time…"

"If you see something, do you believe it?"

"Not without a proper explanation."

"About Scabbers, did you ever find his body?"

"Yes, sir. I was fixing Hagrid some tea, and Scabbers was hiding in the teapot. He was very much alive, sir."

"I expect you were pretty surprised."

"Yes, sir. I screamed, and then I think I may have dropped the teapot."

"What did Mr. Weasley do?"

"He took Scabbers and put him in his pocket. Then we left Hagrid's."

"What happened next?"

"We thought we heard Buckbeak's execution, and then we were going back to Hogwarts. Snuffles - er - a huge dog knocked us down then drug Ron underneath the Whomping Willow. Harry and I were knocked into the Whomping Willow when Crookshanks saved us by pressing the knot on the trunk. You do know about the knot on the trunk, right?" He nodded, and Hermione continued. "We followed this long tunnel and came out in the Shrieking Shack."

"What did you see?" He asked as if he hadn't heard the story already, but strangely, Hermione didn't mind.

"Nothing, but there was a trail where someone had been dragged through the dust, so we followed that. It went into a room, and Ron was sitting on a bed clutching his leg."

"Was it broken?"

"Yes. Ron was trying to warn us to get out, but we wouldn't leave him. He tried to tell us Sirius was an Animagus, but we didn't understand."

"I noticed you referred to my client as 'Sirius.'" Mr. Porgy looked down at his manicured nails. "Are you on friendly terms?"

Hermione glanced at Sirius. His chained hands were resting on the table, and he was staring emptily into space.

Hermione grinned. "Yes, sir. We most certainly are."

"Please continue with your story, Miss Granger. You were telling the court that my client is an Animagus."

"Oh, yeah. Ron was telling us to get out, but we didn't understand until Sirius came into the room and took our wands with Ron's. Then he told Harry he had hoped he would come for Ron, and that Harry's dad would have done the same for him. Then Harry punched him, and I must admit that I hit Sirius as well, when Professor… I mean, Remus Lupin came in."

"How did he know you were there?"

"He had been looking at the Marauder's Map and had seen us disappear under the Whomping Willow."

The lawyer waved a hand at someone, and a young man brought forward the Map. Mr. Porgy held it up so the court could see it was blank. He set it down in front of Hermione. She looked up at Harry, he nodded, and Hermione took out her wand. She touched it to the parchment and whispered, "I solemnly swear I am up to no good." Mr. Porgy lifted the parchment again for the court to see the thin lines spreading and cris-crossing the paper.

"Can you identify what this map is showing?"

"Yes. It's Hogwarts."

"Please continue with your story."

Hermione put her wand away. "Anyway, Remus came in and helped Sirius off the floor. I yelled at him and told Harry and Ron he was a werewolf. He admitted it. Then he told us about how James, Peter, and Sirius became Animagi in order to be with him when he transformed. Then he told us about after they graduated, and Sirius became their Secret-Keeper. Then Sirius told us how he convinced the Potters to make Peter their Secret-Keeper because he thought Peter wasn't as obvious a choice as he was. On Halloween, Sirius went to Peter's, and he wasn't there. He said it didn't feel right, and went to the Potters'. It was, of course, destroyed. Hagrid arrived next, and he took Harry. Then Sirius tracked down Peter, but Peter blew up the street and escaped into the sewers. Sirius was blamed for the crimes. In the middle of them telling us all this, Professor Snape showed up and tried to take Sirius to the Dementors. We… er… we knocked him out."

"Who is 'we'?"

"Harry, Ron, and I. All three of us cast a Disarming Spell at the same time because he insulted Harry's dad."

"What did he say?"

"Do I have to repeat it?"

"It might help your friend."

Hermione sighed. "He said that Harry's dad deserved what he got, and Harry would've been better off if he had been killed too."

Sirius emitted a low growl, but his eyes didn't move.

Hermione resumed her story. "Anyway, Remus and Sirius made Peter reveal himself. Peter begged us to help, and Harry did keep Sirius and Remus from killing him. Peter escaped when Remus began transforming into a werewolf, and Harry and I went to the Hospital Wing."

"Thank you, Miss Granger. You may step down now."

"Thank you."

The hours ticked by. Harry testified about rescuing Sirius and his Godfather's role in his decisions. Ron testified about his honesty. Dumbledore testified about his records, and Lupin testified about the days they had spent together as children. When Snape took the stands, the prosecution gained quite a bit of support, but so far, Sirius seemed to have a fair chance.

"Will the defendant please take the stand?"

Sirius slowly stood up and trudged to the box. His feet were shackled together as well as his hands. His eyes were hollow, and Harry started when Sirius looked at him with a nervous grin. The hand he placed on the Bible was thin and bony. It almost seemed as if he hadn't eaten.

"Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help you God?"

"Yeah." His voice was gruff, and its coldness made Hermione shiver.

"Please be seated."

Mr. Porgy went first. "Do you agree with all of the testimony given so far?"

"No."

"What do you disagree with then?"

"I would never brainwash a bunch of kids."

"So you are objecting to Mr. Snape's testimony then."

"That's right."

"Are you an Animagus?"

"You bet."

"Will you transfigure for the court please?"

He did. Several people screamed, "The Grim!" and pointed their fingers. Sirius changed back with a mischievous grin.

"Is there anything you wish to add?"

"Not really."

"Your witness."

Mr. Bess slowly approached Sirius with the air of a bargain hunter slowly moving towards the Sample table. Sirius began to growl. Mr. Bess took a step back.

The judge glared at Sirius. "Mr. Black, please restrain your primeval habits."

Sirius slowly relaxed and stopped baring his teeth. Mr. Bess came no closer.

"Now, Mr. Black, how did you manage to escape Azkaban?"

Sirius told his story, much as everyone else had. It was almost identical, but more elaborate with description of finding his way to Hogwarts. He told the court about winning Crookshanks' trust. He told them of the Dementors closing in on him, and his escape from Flitwick's office. The judge had to intervene several times between the two men, but the story was nevertheless completed. Sirius returned to his seat like a frisky puppy coming home for its meal.

The judge exited from the room and did not come back for several hours. The time ticked slowly by, and Hermione passed it in the most boring manner possible. She created useless quadratic equations from random points on a Cartesian plane, then converted them to vertex form, and found the roots. Harry kept looking at the scrap paper she had found underneath her seat and quickly turning his head, frightened of the numbers he saw there. Lupin busied himself with a textbook and a lesson plan.

Ron pulled the hem from his cuff and taught Professor Dumbledore to play Cat's Cradle. The Headmaster was fascinated with the simple loop of string. "Look, Seaverus! Jacob's Ladder!" Professor Snape glared at the thread, willing it to catch fire. After five minutes of staring, he gave up and returned to mumbling the recipes for complicated Potions to himself.

The judge returned back to his seat. His wig was slightly askew, and it was apparent he had done some heavy thinking. "I have reviewed the facts with endless care. I have gone over the testimonies and tried to be as fair as possible. After much consideration, I have decided Sirius Black is not guilty."

"WOO-HOO!" Sirius jumped out of his seat, and his chains evaporated. He jumped the railing and kissed the judge. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!" Sirius ran into the stands and jumped on Harry's back. Harry gasped for breath, then collapsed on the floor in a heap of arms and legs. Sirius scrambled up then lunged for Hermione. Grabbing the back of her head, he planted a firm kiss on her lips. Under normal circumstances, Hermione would have shoved him away and cursed him to Kingdom Come, but her brain must have burnt a fuse, because she couldn't seem to think.

"Mr. Black, I suggest you sit down before I imprison you for child molesting." The judge blinked his eyes and by the time they had opened, Sirius was sitting back in his chair with his hands folded neatly on top of the table. "Now then, in compensation for your twelve year imprisonment in Azkaban, the Ministry will provide you with 3,000 Galleons," he promised as Sirius fell out of his seat, "and an excellent recommendation in the event you would like a job." This time, Sirius kissed the judge. "Get him out of my sight!" he shrieked and fled into his office.

Sirius grinned at Dumbledore. Dumbledore grinned back. "Look! Cup and Saucer!" They all laughed until Professor Snape came up from behind and tapped Hermione on the shoulder.

He said, "We must interview him before he loses all hope of sanity."

Hermione shrugged and nudged Sirius's elbow. He looked down at her, paused for a moment when she didn't say anything, and snapped his fingers as he remembered. "Just a minute Hermione. I'll meet you upstairs, all right?" She nodded, and Professor Snape and Hermione left the room.

The stairs were broad and spiraled upward. The interview was scheduled to be on the twelfth story, and the courtroom was on the second. Hermione's legs ached from too much sitting, so she sat on the banister and cast a charm that made her slowly slide upwards. Professor Snape, ever the stiff-necked role model, glared at her and continued to walk up the stairs. "Professor Snape, I was wondering whether I should ask the questions or record the answer."

Professor Snape did not turn to look at her as he answered her. "I brought along an enchanted quill that will record every word spoken at the interview. We will both ask questions."

Hermione's next words were more a command than a question. "We will only ask about how he became an Animagi, not how it affected his life, correct?"

He glared at her from the corner of his eye. "If you are suggesting that I would be that childish, Miss Granger, I suggest you - "

"No, Professor. I wasn't saying that at all."

He didn't respond. Hermione gave up her attempt at conversation as they passed the fifth story, and for the next fifteen minutes, Hermione rode and Snape walked up the stairs.

They reached the office reserved for their purpose. A large mirror was the only decoration of the guacamole-colored walls. It had no frame, but it shone like the cleanest lake, and Hermione thrust her hands in her pockets to prevent herself from touching it. Professor Snape sat down in the most over-bearing chair in the room. It was upholstered in worn brown leather with gold trim. Hermione took the smaller wicker chair painted in white with a flowery, over-stuffed cushion tied to the seat. Professor Snape sneered, but Hermione ignored him.

Sirius burst in a moment later. He panted as he caught his breath, and the black quill Professor Snape had enchanted began scribbling away on a fresh sheet of parchment furiously. Hermione's brain was flying at approximately the same speed.

"Sorry about holding you guys up," he apologized with a grin. He hesitated when he saw the brown chair that seemed to be at least fifty years old and had apparently survived three hurricanes. Taking his chances, he gingerly sat on the edge and folded his arms over his chest. "What do you want to know?"

"How did you begin to research about becoming an Animagus?" Hermione asked.

"Oh, that's easy. I paid attention in class, and whenever Professor McGonagall mentioned a text, I wrote it down then checked it out from the Hogwarts Library. I looked up shape-shifters, ancient legends of wizards or witches who could change form, anything that might give me a lead."

"Did you ever look outside of Hogwarts?"

"Well, our project took its largest leaps over the summer. Most of the books we used then were the ones lying around the house. James had the best ones. Remus refused to lend us any of his books; he didn't really approve and kept reminding us of the danger we were putting ourselves in. Nevertheless, he grinned to himself whenever we started talking about it. Peter didn't have anything worth our time, and I dragged my parents out to the bookstores whenever we got the chance to go."

"How did you explain this sudden interest in Transfiguration to your elders?" Hermione asked.

"Miss Granger, that is not relevant."

"Oh, come off it Snape. I don't mind. Now, the casual onlooker will just want a simple explanation and then they won't ask again. An extra credit project will suffice for this purpose, or just an interest in the topic, or something simple. Someone you come into normal contact with will most certainly notice, and this is where your answer can get tricky. If they've known you long enough to know your personal habits, your answer has to seem natural. You should probably prepare for this one, so you don't stumble around. That'll give away that you're lying for sure. Usually you need a personal project, or you're trying to find out something about somebody. If you're looking up something academic, you could say that your Professor asked you to do a special project for them. We told Lily that Professor McGonagall had agreed to exempt our final exams if we did an extensive project about Animagi, and we had promised that we wouldn't tell anyone, so she couldn't ask her either. Some people we just told to go f - " Sirius paused. Professor Snape was glaring at him, silently daring him to finish his sentence. Hermione was watching the two men with the most profound interest. The enchanted quill was hovering over the parchment, waiting for more words to write. "To go feed themselves." Hermione grinned to herself.

"Next question?" Sirius squeaked. "Ahem." Snape's leer had returned, and he sat smugly in his seat.

"Did you use wandless magic?"

"Not the first time. A wand carries a bit of your essence in it, so to get the feel of the person, the spell should be cast with the person's wand." Hermione groaned and slumped down in her chair. "Is that a problem?"

"Just keep talking, Black," Snape spat.

"Fine," he growled with the attitude of a put-off teenager. "Anyway, using a wand also lets the caster control what they become. After that, you don't really need a wand. You just need the will and the strength to transform. Next question."

"What does it feel like when you transform?"

Sirius paused. "Give me a second. I have to think of how to phrase this without scaring you." Hermione's eyes widened, and Sirius scratched his chin thoughtfully. "Well, it's kind of like you're suddenly made of Play-doh, and everything about you is being gently reshaped. One time, Remus described his transformation into a werewolf. He said it was like his bones were being cracked and placed back in an order that didn't feel right, and then they solidified. It's not like that. It's a gentle changing, like slipping on a bed of pebbles into a shallow lake; you can't tell when you've begun, and you only realize you've changed once you're finished. It's almost soothing. But if the moment is more urgent, and you're trying to transfer quickly, it's like someone took you and threw you into a swimming pool. It all depends on how fast you're transforming."

"Miss Granger," Snape interrupted, standing up. "I have to leave. When this interview is over, floo to Dumbledore's office with this." He handed her a small drawstring pouch. "Tell the Headmaster that business arose which I needed to attend to, and all students need to be accounted for. I will return when I can." Hermione nodded as the color drained from her face.

Sirius watched him leave, and when the door closed, he whispered to Hermione, "What's going on?"

"Ask me later." With a shake of her head, she asked the next question. "When you first transformed, was there anything special that changed about your surroundings?"

"Yeah. It was like a large cloud of fog enveloped us, and I got a very strong whiff of rum. It knocked us all out."

The interview continued for another hour. Eventually Sirius had given Hermione all the information he could, and Hermione had run out of questions. Sirius stood up out of the brown leather chair he had taken, and Hermione rose from her wicker chair. "Well, Hermione. I'm off." He placed his arm over her shoulders, and after cramming the quill and parchment into her pocket, they walked out the door.

"So what are you planning to do?" Hermione asked as she and Sirius slid gently down the banister.

"Well, I was planning on spending the weekend with Harry catching up on normal stuff. Usually I'm telling him to watch his back and not to go looking for trouble, but I want to just sit down and talk about Quidditch and girls and - "

"You know, he's got a huge list of questions he wants to ask you about his parents."

Sirius blinked. "I had a feeling something like that would happen."

"It's three feet long."

Sirius almost fell off the railing. As Hermione helped him back on, she talked him down. "You have to realize that he grew up not knowing anything. He was fifteen when he finally found out what their jobs were! Sirius, you and Remus are the only link he has to the actual people they were, and Remus doesn't like to talk about it. Oh, sure. Dumbledore can tell him about the important things they did. However, you're the one who knows humiliating stories about them. You can tell Harry how his dad proposed to his mom."

"All right! All right! I get the picture."

"After you spend time with Harry, what are you going to do then?"

"I think I'll start small. I want to work with dragons."

It was Hermione's turn to fall nearly off the banister.

"You're kidding, right?"

"No, I'm not. I've always wanted to work with dragons. I began studying for it when I'd left Hogwarts. Then the Ministry began to offer Auror training free, and I couldn't pass that up. They kicked me out, though." He grinned.

"It's not that funny, Sirius. No wonder everyone thought you were Voldemort's Heir."

They had reached the bottom floor, and they both hopped off. "You could pass Auror College, Sirius. It would really help your public image. Promise me you'll think about it."

"I promise."

Sirius embraced Hermione in a bear hug, then ran outside shouting, "Look at me! You can't arrest me! Ha ha! I'M FREE!"

Hermione ran to the tall marble fireplace that was eternally lit. She opened the pouch and threw purple dust into the flames. "Dumbledore's office!" she shouted and was whisked away in a cloud of ash.

She stumbled out of her Headmaster's fireplace and scrambled up to find herself nose-to-nose with the very man she had wanted to see. "Professor Dumbledore! Professor Snape got summoned - "

It seemed someone else had urgent business with the Headmaster. At that moment, Ron burst in, waving a yellowed sheet of parchment in the air. "Professor Dumbledore! Harry's gone!"

Professor Dumbledore sighed and steadied himself on the fireplace mantle. "It is as I feared, then. Harry will find it much harder to escape from Voldemort this year."

A/N: I would like to point out that killing me will not produce the next chapter. ;D

Well, I must say this is the first cliffhanger. Everything else has wrapped itself up neatly. So hey! Cut me some slack. I've been nice to you guys so far... insert malevolent laughter...

Rebecca Anne – Don't worry too much about relationships. You'll become easily confused.

Helena – I like you J I agree totally with your opinions of Ron. PMS isn't actual magic. Ron is easily confused and Arthur Weasley explained it to him as a sort of "Monthly Magic." Hermione's magic is something more special, as you will see in chapters to come.

Char York – Yup. All men are bastards.

Miwi – I hate Ron too. Just in case that wasn't obvious already.

Lizzybeth – I'm not sure if I'm going to be able to take you into many more of Hermione's classes. There's too much going on in the hallways (if you get my meaning). And I think you exaggerated a little bit in your review.

Miley Hauke – Thanks so much for telling me these things. It really helps, and I appreciate it. And of course Snape would call Voldie by his name. He's a Death Eater; why wouldn't he?

JulzYou know, I like you. You include very flattering reviews, and I get the sense that you really think about things. As with some of your reviews from TiP, you don't seem to be afraid to criticize a writer' s work. Just make sure you continue that; you'll receive a lot of favor that way.

If you would like me to e-mail you when I have updated this story, please include your e-mail with your review.