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UNDER THE DARK SKIES

Felnezia Elaine Lloyd

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CHAPTER ONE

ACCUSATIONS

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Hermione ran her fingers through her damp hair. She loved the feel of her damp hair – it somehow made her feel as if she was at her parents' house... away from all difficulties and safe and secure... She couldn't quite describe why she felt that, but she did.

As she sat sipping her early morning cup of coffee, the doorbell rang wildly.

Hermione put down the cup with a frown – who could come visiting at five o'clock in the morning? Moreover, who had any idea that she was here? She thought that she had disappeared from the magical world quite neatly. Maybe it was Mrs. Orton, her more-than-slightly barmy neighbour.

The person who was the answer to her question rang the doorbell again.

Slightly irritated, Hermione went to open the door. But her wand was ready in front of her – even though she had not been able to complete her Auror's training, she had faced enough of dangers to know that presumptions should not be trusted.

And she was right.

The person standing at the door was extremely different from old Mrs. Orton – it was Sirius Black.

Hermione pocketed her wand and voiced none of her astonishment at seeing him.

"Thought you had given me the slip, didn't you?" said Sirius, frowning darkly at her.

"Given you the slip? I am not hiding from you, Sirius," said Hermione coolly as she went to the kitchen to avoid focusing on him throughout the conversation which would surely follow.

Hermione had always felt hesitant about everything when Sirius was present. It wasn't as if she didn't like him, but somehow he seemed so very different ever since he had come back... from dead? No, it was too fantastic to say that – because he himself said that he had never really died. But Hermione had found his behaviour very different towards everyone but Harry. It made her uncomfortable.

She thought that after... everything... they would never meet again. But she would always be Harry's best friend – and he – he would always be Harry's godfather.

But now that everybody presumed that Harry was no more, she thought that she would have nothing more to do with him.

And it annoyed her very much when she found that he suspected that she had a hand in Harry's death – how horrible of him! And he constantly wanted to know answers to questions – questions which hurt her although she could answer with perfect ease.

But she was snapped out of her thoughts as he brought up the subject yet again.

"Why did you disappear like that, then? You could have told me!" he thundered, getting angrier at her indifference.

"If you have come to ask about Harry..."

"YES!"

"...then my answer is still the same – no! Why don't you understand that I can't tell you anything about him?"

She tried to keep her voice from shaking – but failed.

Sirius followed her round the kitchen with his eyes as she prepared coffee for him and cleared up the table.

"Look here," he said angrily after some time, "I know you know everything!"

Hermione didn't make any reply to this as she put down his coffee cup and gestured him to take it.

Sirius ignored that.

"Hermione! I..."

Hermione's frustration and anger overpowered her fear and apprehension of him.

"Sirius! I don't know anything! Can't you understand something so trifling?"

She made to leave him there and go to her bedroom. But he leaped in front of her and grabbed her arm.

"Harry was the only person for whom my life was worth living," he said, a murderous, animal-like look in his black eyes, "And now that he is..." his voice faltered a little, "I am not going to spare his murderer!" Then looking straight into her eyes, "NO MATTER WHO HE – OR SHE IS!"

Hermione felt weak as his grip on her arm tightened painfully. Her eyes watered – more from his accusation than pain.

"Leave me," she said weakly struggling fruitlessly against his grip.

Sirius was aware of the pain that he was causing her but he didn't bother.

"What happened that night? Who killed Harry? You know everything – I can see it in your eyes that you know it!"

That is the very thing, isn't it? thought Hermione, You can see through me.

Aloud, she moaned as his grip became more hurting.

"Please, Sirius," she pleaded, "you are hurting me!"

His hold loosened but he didn't let go of her. "So? Who killed Harry?"

Hermione swallowed hard and once glanced nervously towards the door of her bedroom not far away.

"Okay, I give up," she said softly, "but leave me, please."

Their bodies were touching and Hermione didn't want to be so near him. It… it hurt her…

Sirius suddenly realized how close they were and pushed her back against the table.

Hermione eyes flickered towards the door of her bedroom. She wished she had not put a non-apparating spell on the whole house.

"Well?" said Sirius again.

"Sirius, please," said Hermione desperately, "why don't you understand that I cannot tell you anything right now?"

"Oh, yes, you can. But you are hiding it because you had a hand in it!"

"How could you? I have a hand in Harry's death! Didn't it ever strike you that I would die myself than be the cause of his death?"

"You always valued your life a little too much – I have always noticed that!"

Hermione clenched her fists angrily.

"You didn't notice me – you never noticed anything about me. You were only worried about Harry and Harry only! You didn't care about anybody else – least of all me, so don't say you noticed anything about me!' Hermione wondered, a bit too late, why she had said all that. She had never meant to!

Sirius' anger faded slightly as he heard her. "I was worried most about Harry, but I noticed everybody," he said quietly.

"Yeah, just for Harry's sake!" said Hermione, sounding like an over-spoilt child who was being neglected.

Sirius looked at her searchingly. Hermione blushed as her eyes met his.

"What do you mean?" he asked, his tone softest that Hermione had heard until now.

Hermione said nothing, but pushing past him, ran into her bedroom.

Sirius stared thoughtfully after her, but didn't try to stop her.

o-o-o-o-o-o-

Hermione was angry with herself.

Whatever had she said that to him for? It was so childish of her!

She had thought that she had got over it.

It was her sixth year at Hogwarts. But Hermione wasn't at Hogwarts. Till now she had not come to know where she really had been. She was at a murky, horrible place with Harry and Ron. There were many other people there, but Harry and Ron were the only ones who were her friends there.

She still remembered that dark night clearly – although it wasn't a clear night at all. It was a wild, stormy night and for the most part of it, Hermione had kept praying frantically only one thing – that they all come out of this alive.

She had almost given up hope when Pettigrew had raised his wand to kill them. She had been almost sure that everything was over. Almost – because she remembered that Harry had once saved Wormtail's life and if she remembered rightly, she had read in 'Mysteries of Magic' that it created a bond between them. The book hadn't stated anything clearly in reference to this – like what the importance of this bond and all was in connection to killing. Hermione thought, as she fell to the floor, defeated and dead beat, that she'd soon find out.

She would have thrown herself between Harry and death if she could have been able to move even an inch.

But she couldn't and she just lay there, her sight fogged by her tears. And then...

What happened after that was something that Hermione could describe as only a miracle – a black, shaggy dog had pounced Wormtail.

For a fleeting second, Hermione went cold thinking that she had seen the Grim, but then, she fainted out of shock when she realized that it was Sirius Black. It was a thing too much to bear serenely.

Hermione sighed softly as she remembered all this. The rain lashing the windows of that barren place... the creepy thunder and frightening lightening... Harry bleeding, but fighting... Ron... unconscious because Bellatrix had jinxed him when he had tried to put himself between her and Harry... Wormtail with that metal hand – not even needing a wand to curse them... the strange fanged creatures... death had never really seemed so near before... and out of all this darkness – a blessing... a bright shield for them – Sirius Black – as she still liked to think – returned from the dead.

She thought of that Sirius and the one which had accused her of murdering Harry not long ago – the difference startled her.

When her eyes had opened again, she was still in that horrible place, but this time the darkness and the storm weren't half so frightening as before. In fact, she realized that something warm was enveloped around her and someone was calling out her name. She hadn't recognized the voice instantly – maybe because she hadn't heard it for almost a year… but it seemed so much longer… and even now when she heard it, it seemed drastically changed. Sirius' voice had grown cold and hollow. And when she had opened her eyes, even the haunted look on his face and his cruel eyes didn't seem to resemble the earlier Sirius at all. For some moments she doubted if this was the real Sirius Black.

'You okay?' he asked.

Hermione could see Harry looking at her concernedly over Sirius shoulder. She nodded and inquired about Ron.

A hoarse voice answered, "I am here."

She turned her head slightly to see him supporting himself against the barristers and breathing heavily.

"There's not much time," Sirius had said, giving her his hand to help her up, "Voldemort may come here any time."

"Wormtail?" asked Hermione.

"I'd have killed him – but he escaped when I turned to you," Sirius growled angrily.

"Oh, I..." Hermione didn't know what to say.

Sirius' expression softened a little. "Not that it's your fault." He slipped his arm around her waist to help her walk. She had broken her leg when she had fallen down the stairs as she had tried to dodge Wormtail's Cruciatus at her.

Sirius had led them back to school by the Portkey that had brought them here at the first place.

And then at the Hospital Wing... Sirius had been so... there was no other word for it – animalistic... he had paced the place up and down until she had hinted that she'd be dizzy if he didn't stop it.

He apologized, saying that he thought that she was also asleep like Harry and Ron.

After a moment's pause, he had added, "What happened?" and sat down on the edge of the bed – near her.

It had been one of the worst experiences of Hermione's life and she didn't feel so much like talking about it, but somehow it was just impossible to put off any questions from Sirius.

Her voice faltered a little at first.

"Er... you can keep it for later if it's too dreadful," he said, squeezing her hand.

And suddenly, Hermione had felt strange tickles shoot up through her body. Without meaning to, she had tried to pull back her hand from his grasp. But a moment later, she wished she hadn't because he had let go of her hand tentatively.

"No, its okay," she had said, and yet again just because she felt overwhelmed by him, "I can tell everything all right."

And though it was agony, she had borne it all – she couldn't say why...

Hermione flushed. Why should she think of all this right now? He didn't give a damn about her now.

But as Hermione sat thinking about the end of her sixth year at Hogwarts, she slowly realized something – it was during the vacation after this year, which she had spent with Sirius, Harry, Ron, Fred, George, Remus, Bill, Ginny and Tonks, that she had first realized that Sirius was distrustful of her. She hadn't paid much attention to it then. She wondered why... maybe it was because she had been more than slightly infatuated with him.

Hermione closed her eyes, reliving all the emotions of that time.

The summer which was in Hermione's mind right now, was the summer of about three years ago.

She had gone to the Burrow because her parents had to go to her grandparent's house in Dijon as her grandmother was very ill. Much as she was worried about her grandmother, Hermione was glad to go to the Burrow for the summer – there would be chances of her meeting Sirius again.

And why this newfound desire to see Sirius? Because Hermione had got infatuated to him during the last few days of her stay in Hogwarts. He had not left the Hospital Wing until Harry was well – and then he had stayed back because Hermione was still not fully recovered from the damage to her nerves done by resisting the Cruciatus which Lucius Malfoy had hit her with – or rather tried to hit Ron with but Hermione had intervened. And in anger, he had cursed Hermione instead. Hermione had never felt anything like it before. She had ignored telling that to Sirius that night when she had explained to him. However, when Professor Dumbledore had inquired, she couldn't keep it back. Hermione marvelled, yet again, how intelligent a wizard Professor Dumbledore was. He didn't need Veritaserum to know the truth.

And Sirius... Sirius had been beside himself with rage. He promised her – disregarding her lowly murmured protests – that Malfoy would pay for it with his life. He had stayed there till she had got well feeling strangely guilty for Malfoy's actions though Hermione assured him over and over again that he ought not feel so. Sirius had grave wounds, too, though he won't say how he acquired them. So he had been there too, even after Harry and Ron had left the Hospital Wing.

And during that time with Sirius, Hermione had talked to him a lot. And she was glad that he had, for that time, changed from the morose person that he had become to a cheerful talker. And just to have his good spirits maintained, Hermione had never asked him how he had come alive. All she loved during that time was the late night talks with him, when he was half-dreamy and very talkative. She loved hearing his voice grow cheery. Madam Pomfrey had put him in the very last bed in the place so any students didn't sight him as soon as they entered the place. And Sirius had insisted that Hermione be near him and not at just the opposite side of the place as she was then.

In those few days, Sirius Black had been his best to her. She had never known him kinder to herself – even before his supposed death.

When he had to leave eventually, he had seemed somewhat disheartened at the prospect.

He had given her a sad smile and when he sat talking to her that night before he was to leave, he had sat holding her hand. Hermione wasn't sure that he knew that he was holding her hand, but she was quite sure that she was in a state of heavenly bliss when he did.

And now she was going to the Burrow. And surely, there would be more of Sirius than she had had these three weeks. She was right and not long after she had reached the Burrow, Sirius had invited them all to his house. He had hinted that he had had some renovations.

'Some renovations', in Hermione's opinion, was an exceedingly feeble term. No. 12 Grimmauld Place had never seemed livelier and brighter before.

When he had come down to receive them, Hermione noticed a definite change in his attitude towards herself. He had not been aware that Hermione was to join them too and at first, Hermione thought that he was perturbed because he hadn't got the room ready for her – only a smaller one for Ginny.

But gradually, Hermione noticed that he seemed very unconcerned about her.

They had certainly become closer friends during those few days in the Hospital Wing and Hermione had had all his attention night and day. He had inquired so much about her and about the Muggle world and seemed genuinely interested in all that she told him.

But now, he seemed concerned about Harry and Harry alone. The first night, when Hermione went to bed, she had not been so aware of this. But a few days were enough to convince her that. And then, a feeling had crept in Hermione which had never ever been there before – envy. Hermione envied the unwavering attention which Sirius bestowed on Harry. When Sirius said anything to her now, it seemed to come just out of common politeness – she knew it and she was ready to bet anything that he knew it too.

By and by, Hermione had reasoned out to herself that Sirius was Harry's godfather and he would obviously be more concerned with him. But then, that was no reason for Hermione to be so ignored because – Ron wasn't. Now that she came to think of it, none of the Weasleys were. It was only her that Sirius seemed to be too polite with – too polite to really care for her...

Hermione felt shattered as she realized this. She felt like an odd one out there.

Now all she wanted was to go back home – even if she didn't get to hear anything about Sirius there.

One particular incident stood out in her memory more than anything else.

It had been an evening a week before they all would be off to Hogwarts again.

Harry had voiced the question which had been hovering in everybody's mind, "Sirius, what happened after you fell through that veil?"

The atmosphere tensed immediately. Ron and Bill looked up from their game of chess, Fred and George (who could now openly discuss Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes) turned inquisitively towards Sirius, Ginny looked up too and Tonks bumped into a chest of drawers as she spun around. Only Remus and she kept still, turning their ears rather than their eyes towards Sirius.

Sirius' response was light-hearted, "I don't think that I am supposed to talk about it, Harry."

And then – his eyes flickered towards Hermione at the same time that she looked up. His dark eyes held hers for a moment.

But that moment was sufficient to make Hermione realize that it was her presence which he objected to.

Although Ginny, who had been sitting chatting with Hermione, quivered indignantly, "I am old enough to know, Sirius!"

Hermione didn't hear Sirius reply – her head was in a whirl. She couldn't take his indifference anymore. She had made some excuse and went off to bed. She had sobbed quietly in the dark of her room until Ginny had come up to bed. And then she had feigned sleep.

But she hadn't slept at all that night.

She hadn't slept well any night there after then.

And oh! What a relief it was to leave No. 12, Grimmauld Place on the first morning of September!

The fact that Sirius hadn't said goodbye to her went unnoticed by others – but it stung her still.

"Hermione! Open the door!"

Hermione's mind was very hazy. Door? What door? What was Sirius talking about?

"Hermione! Are you there?"

Of course, I am here, Sirius, can't you see me? – Hermione thought, but didn't say. Then another gloomy reflection crossed her mind – Sirius, you never see me, now...

"Hermione! Hermione!"

And as Sirius' voice penetrated her mind more clearly, Hermione suddenly realized that she was very cold. She also became aware of the fact that she was sitting on the floor and was slumped against the door of her room and had drifted off to sleep there.

"Hermione!"

This time the call was accompanied by loud hammering on the door of her room. It sent shivers up her spine. She wished Sirius won't be so violent.

She rubbed her sleepy eyes and stood up to open the door.

But as she reached out for the doorknob, she recollected why Sirius was here in the first place. She withdrew her hand, but at the same time, there was his voice – a muffled sound of 'Alohomora', a click and Sirius had pushed open the door. Hermione backed away quickly so that the door won't hit her in opening.

"Hermione..." Sirius trailed away, as his eyes fell on her. "Sorry... I didn't mean to barge in like that..."

Hermione realized that her dressing gown had come loose and it was almost falling off her shoulders. She blushed a deep red (quite like Ron) and pulled it closer around her.

"I – I fell asleep," said Hermione, breaking the uncomfortable silence.

Sirius fixed his usual searching look on her – the one which he only reserved for her... and Hermione didn't like it.

"You look tired, yes," he muttered awkwardly. "Okay, you rest. It was just that – I was worried a bit... you've been in here for quite some time now and not a single sound... And earlier I had shouted at you and all."

Hermione didn't reply. She really was tired. All she would fancy now was her bed.

Thankfully, Sirius turned and went away, closing the door behind him.

o-o-o-o-o-o-

The sun was bright and warm when Hermione woke up.

She lay staring up at the ceiling, not quite wanting to get up and go out – where Sirius was. She couldn't tolerate his animosity towards her anymore. Not that he hated her that much, but he didn't like her either, and the very thought was excruciating for Hermione. She wished she could forget all about how rude and apathetic he was towards her.

Hermione could hear him pacing the small sitting-room. He was still here then – waiting to pounce on her and wring the answers out of her as soon as she came out.

As she changed into a sweater and a simple skirt, she decided that she might as well talk to him now, rather than bear the agony of his presence near her.

Sirius stopped walking up and down the room as Hermione came out, her face quite determined not to give away anything.

"You okay?" Sirius asked, much in the same way as he had when he had saved her, and Harry and Ron, almost four years ago.

But her answer this time was far more untruthful, although it was same, 'Yes.'

Sirius seemed keen of bringing up the subject which was topmost in his mind, but was apprehensive.

Hermione decided to spare him the trouble.

"Sirius, for the last time, I cannot tell you anything about Harry's death – and I did not kill him or help kill him. It's horrible of you to think that!"

"But you do know a lot which I don't and I want to know what it is," said Sirius, fixing a penetrating look on her.

Hermione sat down, her back to him, and shook her head.

"WHY NOT?" thundered Sirius.

Hermione didn't answer, but kept gazing blankly at the floor.

"I am not leaving you until you tell me what it is!"

"You are welcome to stay, but you'll have to sleep on the couch because there is no guest-room here,' said Hermione sardonically. She was really very annoyed now. She eyed the front door, wondering if Sirius would be able to stop her now if she made for it. With a resigned sigh, she decided that he would. It was uncanny how he had always had power over her. Though she had once liked him, she had never really trusted in his judgement of things. He was always a bit too reckless for her. And it made him dangerous. Hermione was even a bit scared of him.

"Why don't you tell me the truth if you had no hand in Harry's death?" asked Sirius, sounding a bit calmer.

Hermione knew that he was staring at her. It always gave her a prickly feeling near the neck when anybody stared at her.

"Harry won't have wanted me to."

"Harry never hid anything from me. You should have known that by now," said Sirius curtly. He came round to face her.

"Sirius, Harry wasn't a kid anymore," said Hermione slowly.

"What...?"

Hermione cut him off. "He wasn't a child. He had his own secrets. It is very much possible that he did not tell you about... certain things..." This was getting harder for Hermione. She wished it would be Bill Weasley who would be telling him this, not her. She wasn't the one who had brought it upon herself. It was all Bill's and Harry's fault, she thought crossly. But she had known all along that it would be she would have to pay for it.

"And he told you about them?" Sirius laughed harshly. "Harry didn't trust you more than he trusted me!" he said fiercely.

"And that's because you told him not to? Harry realized it, you know." Hermione's voice grew accusatory. "He knew I was his real friend, in spite of all the rubbish you kept filling him with. You should have known better than trying to wreck my friendship with Harry!"

Sirius' face grew a bit pale as Hermione fixed her reproachful eyes on her. "Harry told you...?"

"No, but I could guess. Not guess really, but deduce – from your manner and his. I am not blind, you know."

Sirius sat down on the chair opposite hers. "I suspected you could turn over to the Dark side. As soon as I realized that Pettigrew..."

"What?" said Hermione sharply.

"Pettigrew is a relation of yours?" whispered Sirius softly. His eyes became gentler rather than turning hostile at the question.

"My mother's relation, not mine! He was my mother's cousin! I don't believe he is anything to me," Hermione said angrily. "And I didn't know that till a year ago! And you kept accusing me just because of that?"

"You were always too keen about your work. It seemed suspicious somehow. And you are ambitious. Voldemort could lure you to the Dark side, you know."

Hermione stood up, eyes blazing with contempt. "Indeed? And that's the opinion you have got of me? You should have known better than to suspect me with out reason!"

"It wasn't without reason! You are always too mysterious and quiet. I have noticed that!" Sirius said quietly, keeping his calm.

"That's because I have pretty little to talk about. I have my work and my friends and my parents – nothing more, nothing less. I would be mysterious only if I had something to hide or tell. But I don't! There's pretty little to my life," she finished, on a rather bitter note.

Sirius looked mildly perturbed. "You don't seem that kind of a girl, Hermione. There has to be more to you than Harry's friend and a goody, intelligent, hard-working girl."

His words stung Hermione. For a moment she wished she was a mysterious, attractive spy rather than the plain, simple good girl she was. The only secret she held right now was also about Harry. It wasn't as if she liked trouble, but after the exciting life at Hogwarts, things certainly seemed disappointingly dull.

She said nothing, but kept looking hard at the wall opposite.

Sirius was dimly aware of saying something he shouldn't have, but he didn't bother much, mostly because of habit as he had long given up bothering about Hermione.

"So no matter what, you will not tell me about...?"

"No!" said Hermione shortly before Sirius could complete the question.

Sirius sighed and leaned back in his chair. "You are very obstinate!"

"So are you!" Hermione shot back at him.

"I am weary of this feud. I want to end it. Can't you even give a hint?"

Hermione didn't even make a movement to reply, but Sirius knew the answer was negative.

They sat in silence for a while. Then Hermione said, "It's near lunch time, now. I'll make something for – us?"

Sirius shrugged. "I am not going till you answer, so make it 'us'." He grinned slightly.

Hermione stood up coolly and went into the kitchen.

Sirius' face relapsed into its habitual hardness and he gazed at the wall opposite, thinking.

They had their meal in complete silence. Sirius was unusually thoughtful, as if contemplating something. Hermione felt a little wary of his odd silence. It wasn't a calm quietness, but rather the stillness before a stormy outburst. Hermione decided that she would retreat to her room as soon as this was over with.

"You don't fancy an after-lunch coffee, do you?" asked Sirius, as he tilted back his chair leisurely.

"Not usually. Would you like some?"

"No. But you used to, right?" asked Sirius.

Was Hermione imagining or did Sirius really sound a little disappointed at her negative answer. There was no apparent reason for Sirius' disappointment – she was just thinking things. What would Sirius care about that? But Hermione wondered why he had questioned her in the first place.

"I gave up the habit – it was turning into addiction."

Sirius didn't make a reply, but took up the Muggle newspaper lying on the table in the sitting-room. As Hermione passed him to go to her room, she noticed that he was just flipping through uninterestedly – to avoid her, perhaps.

"Are you going to lock yourself in there?"

Hermione stopped midway as she was about to close the door. "I have work to do," she said shortly.

"It will be easier if we finish up with our little talk. You won't need to put up with me so much."

"It isn't me who is putting up with you. It is you who have always to put up with me," replied Hermione frostily.

Sirius looked puzzled. "Sometimes, I really don't understand you, Hermione," he said, frowning at her.

Hermione didn't reply but kept gazing at the floor. If he didn't understand then, he won't understand now. And she wasn't going to help him with it.

"We are just wasting time," burst out Sirius. "You don't understand how much Harry meant to me, Hermione! There's nothing left in my life now. Everything is dead in my world now! I just want to avenge Harry's death before dying. Please, Hermione, try to understand." Sirius sounded desperate and miserable.

"Harry wasn't like that, Sirius," said Hermione quietly. "He won't want you to turn into a murderer for his sake. He won't have wanted you to be so hard on yourself for his sake."

"You don't understand how it is." Sirius got up and came up to her. "Harry was... he was James' son... I can't bear the thought that his murderer is going around free!"

"And by that, Sirius Black, I suppose you suggest myself?" said Hermione, tersely, her temper getting the better of her.

"I didn't..."

But Hermione cut him off.

"I am SICK of it all! You here me, Sirius? I FEEL SICK OF THIS! GROW UP! OR BETTER – LEAVE ME IN PEACE!" Hermione yelled at him.

Sirius' face turned a bit pink before he was about to launch into a tirade himself, but the doorbell interrupted them.