The same night, Hermione was woken by a piercing scream.
Trying to comprehend the situation, Hermione realized that the scream had come from the room next door. Sirius' room. Quickly checking if Ginny was still asleep, Hermione slid out of bed. She shivered a bit, given her thin, shoulderfree shirt and matching pants. In the summer she had liked the color, a dark violet that gave her tanned skin a nice glow and the light material very much, but as autumn was approaching, warmer nichtclothes would be more appropriate. Trying not to make to much noise on the old floorboards, Hermione opened her door, closed it carefully and tiptoed towards Sirius' room.
She gently pressed the doorknob, findig it locked. She decided to think about this detail later and quickly drew out her wand. "Alohomora!". Quietly, the door opened and revealed a sight that made Hermione sharply drow her breath.
Sirius was sitting in his bed, bolt upright and panting, clutching his chest, staring at her, with a haunted, scared look on his face. His long dark hair was hanging wildly around his unshaven face. He looked older than he had done since he had come back, his eyes were deeper and darker than she had seen them in years, his expression gave evidence of terrible things he had seen.
With a shock, Hermione realised that he looked more like his old self. Yet there was a difference: The Sirius Hermione had known was sure suffering of the dreadful memories the deaths of his best friends and Azkaban prison had given him, but he had become strong, he was understanding the things that had happened to him. He was thinking them over, learning more and more to live with them. The Sirius Hermione saw now was just scared out of his wits, obvoiusly not capable of dealing with whatever had caused him to scream.
Hermione rushed over to his bed. "Sirius, what happened?"
He stared at her: "what are you doing here? How did you get in?"
"Oh, never mind Sirius. I heared you scream, what happended? Do you need help?" She sat down on his bedside.
He still stared at her, then his eyes blackened, like a dark chamber had opened behind them: "Dementors", he whispered.
"What?" Hermione breathed, "there was a Dementor? No, surely there was no Dementor here, what would they do here, they could never.."
"I saw Dementors, coming after me, chasing me, chasing my soul, bringing things out in my mind… Terrible things." His voice broke.
"A dream, right?"
Sirius nodded slowly. Then he said: "But, but it didn't feel like one. It didn't feel like a dream. It was much closer, everywhere, in my head, in my heart, I could feel the cold. I've dreamed before and this was something different…"
Hermione knew what was coming and silently she hoped he would somehow not come across this thought. But her hopes were shattered: "Was it a memory?" Sirius looked at her, questioning: "Hermione, could that have been a memory?"
She closed her eyes to stop them from revealing that she had had the exact same thought from the moment he had mentioned the Azkaban guards. "No, it could not be a memory. You have never had contact with any Dementors, had you?" She tried to sound confident, calming.
But he seemend to be beyond the point of believing shallow reassurings. He suddenly grabbed Hermione's arm, forcing her to look him in the eye: "I was not a dream. I know it. If you know anything, tell me."
"No, Sirius, I don't, I can't tell you anything, I'm sure, it was just a dream."
"Rubbish!", his grab hardened, he pulled her closer, still not allowing her to look away: "I can see that you know something I don't, so tell me, I have a right to know!"
"Sirius, let me go!", but her struggle just made him more insisting, as she tried to free herself, he grabbed both her shoulders, pulling her towards him, until their faces were just inces apart.
Hermione could feel the heat coming from the desperate man in front of her, his hands were like fire on her skin. His eyes locked with hers and his intense gaze made her hold her breath. For a second, she wondered why he did not scare her, why his touch felt somehow right, but then he broke the moment, nearly shouting at her: "Tell me what you know! I need to know, something is not right with me, I am not what everybody is trying to make me believe I am. And you know it, but you keep it from me, how can you do this to me, you LIAR!"
"Sirius, please!", Hermione could hardly hold back her tears, seeing him so desperate and angry. This made him come to his senses. Suddenly Sirius realised what he was doing and devastated, he let go of the girl in front of him, who was now shaking with surpressed tears, her head bent.
He sank back into his cushions, lost and weak: "I am sorry, I didn't want to hurt you. You always seemed to understand me more than the others. I am just… I can't deal with this. Those dreams or whatever they are, they keep coming back. Every night."
"What?" Hermione looked up "how long is this going on like that? Is that why you've locked your door?"
"Hmhm" he hesitated. "Yes. I am sorry, but I could not tell anyone. I don't understand what happened to me. After I came back from, from there, everything seemed to be fine. I could not remember who I was, but I had hope, that someday soon, things would be right again. And everybody was so friendly and caring, that felt so good. And seing Harry that happy, I mean, how can you possibly not want that boy to be happy?" Hermione gave a slight smile.
"But then, things began to change. The more all of you told me about myself, the more I wanted to know, and I tried to find memories of my own. And then, about a month ago those dreams started. Firstly, they were just like shadows, you know, indistinct and I tried not to put to much into them. But then, they grew stronger, more real. And the more real they became, the more I wanted to believe the stories you told me about myself, because I feared that somehow, there could be more about those things I was seeing, that they could be…"
"The real thing?" Hermoine asked.
"Yes. And I began to suspect, that not everthing you told me was true. As much as I feared the things I saw at night, I still wanted to see them, because if those are really my memories, I will have to know, right?"
Hermione could not bring herself to tell hm how much she agreed, so she remained silent, watching Sirius.
"And then there was you. From the beginning I had the impression, that you were somehow not as – enthusiastic about telling me about my past as the others were. At first I thougt, you just did not like me, but the way you treated me spoke against this." Hermione swallowed. "You were always so kind and understanding. And then I felt that you were disagreeing with the others about something. I also ran into an argument you had with Harry, remember? At first I believed your story about the twins, but now… It was about me, right?"
"Sirius, please, don't, I can't tell you more than the others can."
"So there is more?"
"No, that's not what I meant, I just want to say, that you should not rely on what a single person tells you, that could be mis…"
"Hermione, I asked you whether there was more." Sirius interrupted her "And I know, that I can trust you, for some reason, more than I can trust the others. Please, tell me the truth."
Again, his gaze had found her and he was not willing to let her go. Something struck him about her, as she was sitting there, next to him on his bed. Her presence was soothing, right, but it didn't end there.
The extraordinary intelligence of Hermione Granger, her way of fighting for others' rights, her clear principles and matureness. It made him forget that she was barely seventeen, made her a person he could trust completely. Moreover, she was kind and caring, and sometimes she looked at him in a way he found to dangerous to classify. He did not want her to stop, he found a certain security in those dark brown eyes, a place that belonged exclusively to him, and he had the feeling that he would find himself in there.
"Hermione, please, help me."
She looked at him, lost for words. She knew that she should not give him what he wanted, that she could not tell him about Sirius Black's past. But on the other hand, she could not let him alone with those dreadful memories that kept coming back at him. He would never be able to deal with what he was about to see, unless he understood how he experienced all of this in his earlier life.
And she made a decision.
"I will."
"Thank you..."
"But - you have to promise me, that you won't tell anyone about this. You will be like you always are. I will be able to explain some of those dreams to you. You will understand how you can see those things. But you will let me decide, how much I tell you and when I do it."
Sirius nodded. "So it is true, I am not who…"
"Not now. I have to think about this, before we start. I don't want to be too quick, because you will need to understand some things, but then, I am sure, you will be able to deal with everything that comes to you, in dreams or not."
"But how am I supposed to sleep now? You give me a little bit and then I shall be calm and wait for more?"
"This is how it works, sorry. You will understand. But please, let me think now. And not a word to anyone."
Sirius looked at her, Hermione looked back at him and for a fleeting moment, she thought, he would grab her shoulders again and attack her for information.
But then, he nodded. "Alright. I thank you, Hermione."
"I will visit you tomorrow night. I think this will be the most practical way of avoiding the others. And I know an exellent spell to make sure nobody will hear us."
Sirius grinned. Of course she knew a spell. She was Hermione.
She rose from his bed: "Good night, or better: good dawn, it will be sunrise in a few minutes." And she quietly glid through the door.