Hermione often wondered at the odd direction her life had taken. She had been in the past nearly a year and she was engaged and living with her one time Defense Professor, she was in the middle of the greatest wizarding battle of the century and once again she was standing in front of Number 12 Grimmault place.
It was raining and the Knight bus had just let Sirius and herself off in front of his home. Hermione's hair was plastered to her head and water was dripping from its ends. Sirius was standing next to her staring at his home, but not moving. His face was set and his eyes were stormy and she wondered if he had changed his mind.
He was finally jolted into action when he felt her shiver next to him. He glanced at her and frowned when he was how wet she was, as if he hadn't noticed the rain himself.
"Come on, let's get out of the rain," he said. He walked up to the house and rang the bell.
"What are you doing?" asked Hermione. "Do you want to wake them?"
Sirius gave her an odd sideways glance. "What?" he questioned.
"The portraits," said Hermione. "You'll wake them."
"So," he returned.
Hermione paused. "The portraits," she repeated uncertainly. "If they wake up..." She was interrupted when the door to Grimmault Place swung open.
Sirius put his hand on Hermione's back and ushered her in, before quickly following her.
"Master Black," said a deep gravely voice.
Hermione jumped in fright. She looked down and saw the Black's decrepit looking house elf, looking not quite as decrepit as she remembered.
"Where's mother, Kreacher," asked Sirius directly.
"My Mistress is in her room," returned Kreacher.
"And father," asked Sirius.
"The Master is not home."
"Tell my mother I'm here with a guest," commanded Sirius.
"My Mistress told Kreacher not to disturb her," said Kreacher.
"I don't care," said Sirius angrily. "Tell her I have to speak to her. Now!"
"Yes, Master Black," said Kreacher begrudgingly. He slowly lumbered away further into the house.
Sirius glanced at Hermione who was still shivering and had her arms crossed across her chest. He pulled out with wand and cast a drying spell on both Hermione and himself.
"You didn't have to come," he said after a moment.
Hermione wasn't sure how to respond. She hadn't wanted to come, but at the same time she knew she had to. Grimmault Place was another one of those places that was painful to be in. There were so many memories. So instead she went back to the issue at hand.
"Do you really think your parents know anything about the Potters?"
Sirius shrugged. "I'm not sure, but I had to try."
Hermione nodded, but felt sick. Neither of Harry's grandparents were alive when the Potter's had been killed, otherwise he wouldn't have had to go with his awful aunt and uncle, but a small piece of Hermione held out hope that she had changed things enough to save them. She had for some time felt that the future was much less certain than when she had arrived.
She had been somewhat surprised that neither Remus, Dumbledore, or Sirius had asked her what had happened to the Potter's in the future. It was as if they were afraid of her answer.
Hermione surveyed the area they were in. Sirius hadn't advanced any further into the house than the hallway. The portraits were still hung along the whole hallway, but without the curtains. She glanced at various portraits, but they were staring stonily ahead as if deliberately shunning the two people in front of them. Her eyes finally rested on the portrait of Sirius's mother, the one that had frankly frightened her a little when she had occupied the house with the Order.
The portrait was beautiful. His mother was actually quite striking with her dark black hair, shining and neat and her high cheekbones and full lips. All traces of its madness were gone. Sirius's mother stared back at her, but said nothing.
Sirius acted as if none of the portraits were near them, much the same way the portraits were acting towards him.
After nearly five minutes, Kreacher reappeared in the hallway. "My Mistress says you are to leave this house," he said almost happily.
Sirius advanced on the gloating house elf. "Is that so?" he said through gritted teeth.
Hermione held her breath. She swore she could see fear in the house-elf's eyes.
"You tell my mother that I'm not leaving until I see her, if I have to wait here all night," said Sirius. "Better yet, I'll just go up and see her," he said pushing past Kreacher. Hermione scrambled quickly to follow him. She didn't want to be alone in the house.
"You may want to stay down here," said Sirius quietly.
Hermione was surprised that he still realized she was there. "I'm not leaving you," she returned just as quietly. "But are you sure you want to do this?"
"My parents are friends with practically every known Death Eater of importance. They may know what's happened to the Potter's."
"But they're not Death Eater's, Sirius."
"We don't know that," bit back Sirius.
"I know," she said quietly, putting her hand on his arm.
"My brother was a Death Eater," challenged Sirius.
"But your parent's aren't. You know that."
"My parents have done nothing but lie to me since the day I was born."
"Sirius, whatever your parents are, they are not Death Eaters," said Hermione firmly.
Sirius met her eyes. "If there's even the smallest chance that they know where the Potter's are..." he began.
"Let's find out," said Hermione taking his hand in hers in a supportive gesture. They went the rest of the way hand in hand and Sirius opened his mother's bedroom door without knocking.
Mrs. Black was sitting on an ornamental bench in front of an ornate vanity. She was looking at Sirius and Hermione through the mirror.
"Hello mother," said Sirius, staring back into the mirror.
"I believe I told Kreacher to see you out," was her only response. She returned her gaze to her own reflection and picked up a silver handled brush and began running it through her hair. "I'm afraid he will have to be punished," she mused.
Hermione's heart twisted for the awful excuse for a house elf, but if Sirius felt anything he showed no reaction.
"I imagine you know why I've come," said Sirius, immediately getting to the point.
"Money?" she questioned. "No, it couldn't be that. Your father and I were informed that your fool Uncle Alphard settled a nice amount on you." She laid her brush down and picked up another item, though Hermione couldn't see what it was. "Perhaps you've come to your senses and decided to atone for your sins and return to your family." She turned then and Hermione took an involuntary step back. Hermione had never seen eyes like Mrs. Blacks. They were dark and almost completely devoid of anything resembling life. Sirius's eyes were also dark, but they sparkled with mischief and something joyful and untouchable.
She stared at Sirius now with those eyes. "You're wasting your time. Neither your father or I will ever acknowledge you again. You are alone in the world. Your father will be the last of the Black's."
Hermione gasped. She had never seen any parent act so hatefully toward one of their children. The gasp seemed to remind Mrs. Black that she and Sirius weren't the only ones in the room. Her lips curled into a slow smile.
"You haven't changed a bit, mother. You may choose to live in hate, but I refuse. I have come for one thing and once I have it I will leave and you will never see me again," said Sirius tonelessly.
His mother regarded him, but didn't speak. Without hesitating, Sirius continued. "Do you know anything about the disappearance of the Potter's?"
She laughed, a harsh laugh. "Get out," she commanded, turning away.
"Tell me," he demanded, advancing on her. "Tell me now."
"Fool," she spat. "This is what comes from mixing with mudbloods and blood traitors. You will all fall one by one. Your brother Regulus had courage. He was a man who knew how to attain power. You, Sirius, are a coward, too afraid to extend your hand and take what is rightfully yours."
Sirius shook his head. "Regulus is dead," he said bitterly. "My brother was a fool, believing all the nonsense you and father spewed. And he died a fool."
In an instant, Mrs. Black's hand flashed across the air, cracking against her son's cheek. His head snapped to the side and when he straightened, Hermione could see blood on his cheek. "Shame of my flesh," Mrs. Black screamed. "Vile, traitorous..."
"Stop," Hermione shouted, pushing herself in front of Sirius. She wouldn't let them hurt him. She knew they had already done damage to him and she'd be damned if they did any more, not while she could prevent it. "What kind of a mother are you?" she spat. "Do you have any idea what kind of a man your son is? He's worth more than the entire Black family tree. The whole lot of you are nothing but weak and hateful."
"Get out of this house," she continued screaming. "I'll not have filth walking through these halls."
"Tell us what you know of the Potter's and we'll leave," demanded Sirius.
"Rigel," she screamed. "Rigel."
Hermione felt Sirius tense behind her and turned questioningly. Sirius had gone very white and actually began pulling Hermione backwards. She allowed him to pull her almost from the room but they were stopped by a tall imposing man blocking the door.
Sirius pushed Hermione behind him and she could feel him shaking. It unnerved her. Even when they had faced Voldemort together she had not seen Sirius altered. He had been brave and strong. Now, she could feel his fear, it nearly enveloped him and threatened to consume her.
"What is the meaning of this?" asked the man from the doorway.
"Father," Sirius croaked. "We were told you weren't home."
"Why are you in this house?" demanded Rigel Black.
Sirius didn't reply.
"Speak boy," threatened his father dangerously.
Hermione tried desperately to push back the fear bubbling inside her. Rigel Black was no taller than Sirius, nor did he appear to weigh much more, but he seemed to tower over them. It wasn't as if he was a big man, rather it seemed that Sirius had become a small boy.
"He came to inquire about the whereabouts of the Potter's," said Mrs. Black from behind her son and Hermione.
Rigel Black's eyes never left Sirius's and Sirius had no choice but to maintain the gaze. "The Potter's are dead," he said coldly. "Now get out of my house and never come back."
Hermione bit her bottom lip sharply to keep from crying out. He had pronounced the Potter's death in such a way that all hope simply left her heart. The indifferent tone, as if he were delivering a report on the weather, seemed to defy contradiction.
She was close to Sirius, her body touching his in several places and upon his father's pronouncement, every muscle in Sirius's body tightened. He lunged at his father, but was forced to halt his forward movement when he felt the sharp point of a wand against his chest.
"Do not test me, boy," he warned. "I will not temper myself as I did when you were a child."
Hermione stepped forward slowly. "Sirius," she said softly. She placed both hands on his arm and gently pulled him away. Sirius never removed his gaze from his father's.
"Father," he said, and Hermione was proud that she could not even hear a tremble in his voice or feel one in his body. "I will have a son and he will be the opposite of everything in this room. You are not the last Black. That is my promise and I want you to remember it for the rest of your life." Without another word he swept down the stairs, keeping Hermione very close to him, even after they had left the confines of the house.
He hailed the Knight Bus and pushed Hermione hurriedly onto it. They sat alone in the back of the very empty transport. Neither spoke for a long time.
Hermione watched Sirius the whole time, but his face was unreadable. She finally turned away, staring out the rain spotted window into the night air, when he spoke. It was almost imperceptible.
"James," he murmured.
"What?" asked Hermione softly.
"I have to get to James," he said more to himself than to her.
"I know," she said sadly. "Remus will have brought him to Hogwarts by now," she assured him.
"He has to be told," he said quietly.
"Oh Sirius, we don't know anything..." she stopped when he looked up at her. Tears were shining in his eyes and he was begging her to stop. They knew. The Potter's were dead. They could both feel it and Sirius wouldn't be able to keep control of himself if she continued.
She didn't know how they eventually arrived at Hogwarts, but they did. It was as if they were both sleepwalking, concentrating all of their efforts on putting one foot in front of the other, and knowing that it was either that or succumb to the pain.
Hermione could hear the crying before they reached the room and she faltered, but Sirius never broke his stride. He entered Dumbledore's office without hesitation, leaving the door open behind him. Through the doorway Hermione could see the scene playing out in front of her.
To Hermione, James never looked more like his son then he did that very moment. He was sitting in a chair staring at some point on the far wall. Every bit of him fought for control. Lily was weeping silently behind him, not sure how to reach her husband. He was too far away to be reached. They both looked up when Sirius entered and James stood. The two brothers met each other halfway and threw their arms around each other.
Hermione continued to watch and saw Remus emerge from somewhere to the left of her view and approach her. He wrapped her in a protective hug.
"They found the Potter's," he whispered softly in her ear.
She nodded.
"It was the killing curse," he said even more softly.
She nodded again, too numb to speak. She knew what loss was, had felt it before, but this seemed like too much to handle. The Potter's had welcomed them into their home and treated her like family. She had come to love them in a very short time. Remus led her quietly into Dumbledore's office, shutting the door behind them and blocking everything out.
"Why?" said James, unable to conceal his anguish.
"I don't know," returned Sirius bitterly. "But we won't rest until they pay."
"No," said James savagely, wrenching himself from Sirius's grasp. He turned to where Remus and Hermione were quietly standing. "Why didn't you stop it?" he said, his eyes glowing with rage.
Hermione shook her head, fresh tears streaming down her face.
James reached out and grabbed Hermione's shoulders, shaking her violently. "Why didn't you save them? This is your fault. They'd still be alive if it wasn't for you. You should have never come."
Her teeth chattered as she whimpered, "James, please."
He released her instantly and fell to her feet, sobbing. She dropped to her knees and wrapped her arms around his shaking frame. "I didn't know. I swear. I didn't know."
Whether he heard her or not, she couldn't tell. He continued to cry, lost in his grief. Lily came and sat, opening her arms to him. He immediately went to her. Remus approached from behind and pulled Hermione to her feet. He tried to hold her, but she pushed him away, choosing instead to leave the room. She stepped out of Dumbledore's office and began to run.
"Hermione," Remus called, following her. But she didn't stop. She ran through the halls and then began climbing the staircases. At first she took the steps two at a time, but then her body began to give in to its tiredness and she was forced to slow her pace, though she pressed herself forward.
She could still hear Remus, but he was a floor below her and couldn't catch up. She ran up the fifth floor stairs and straight to the sixth and then the seventh. She wrenched the door to the seventh floor open and hurtled down the hall searching. She found the door she was looking for at the very end of the hall. The ancient writing was still there, but seemed to glow less brightly than that day almost a year ago. Tsap strawgoh seil rood siht hguorht.
Hermione grabbed at the door handle and yanked, but nothing happened. "Open," she whimpered. "Damn it, open."
"Hermione, no," yelled Remus from the other end of the hall. She could hear him charging toward her.
She kept trying the door handle and then she began banging on the door. "Open," she screamed.
Remus came behind her and grabbed her around her waist pulling her backwards. She fought him and they both loss their balance and fell to the floor. Hermione tried to get back up, but Remus held her fast.
"Let me go," she begged. "Please. I have to get back. I don't want to be here anymore."
"Please Hermione," he begged, his voice choked and desperate. "Please, please."
She eventually stopped struggling and let Remus pull her into his tight embrace.
"You love me," he whispered. "You love me. Please don't go."
They were both breathing heavily. Hermione couldn't say anything. She couldn't think.
"I'll do anything you want," continued Remus. "Just stay. We love each other. We're getting married. Don't throw it away. Just stay."
"They're never going to let us get married," returned Hermione miserably. She turned in his arms. "It would have been better for you if I had never come."
"Don't say that," he said angrily. "It's not true."
"Remus, why do you love me? All I've done is cause everyone misery since I came."
Remus laughed softly. "All you've done since you came here is make me happier than I've ever been. But if I don't make you as happy as you make me then..."
"You make me happy," Hermione interrupted him. "I'm so sorry. It was all just too much. I love you. I do."
"I love you," he repeated. "And everything is going to be all right."
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A/N: Whew! That was intense to write. I hope everyone liked it.
Okay, ten points for all you very smart people out there who knew that Little Hangleton is the town where the Riddle House is, I'll try to think of a harder one next time.
I just wanted to toot my horn for coming up with a very clever name for Sirius's father. Rigel is the name of a star and all the Blacks are named after stars. Oh the cleverness of me.
Here's another talking point. While I was writing this chapter I was thinking about book five a lot. I have been trying to capture the tone of that book in these last couple of chapters, though I don't think I've always been successful. Anyway, I was wondering who gets the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black now that Sirius is dead. Everyone has assumed that Sirius will have left it to Harry, but I don't think JKR will do that. I imagine the house is entailed to the next of heir, or more precisely, the next male heir. This is the way they used to do things in England. (I have no idea if they still hand down manors in this way seeing as I'm not British.) If this theory is true and my research is correct, then Draco Malfoy will inherit the Black House, since his mother was a Black and Lucius Malfoy is not, unless of course Andromeda or Bellatrix had any sons. I'm sure many of you will think this is a great stretch, on the other hand if JKR writes it this way, you all will look back and think I'm a genius.
