Hermione couldn't believe what she was seeing. Standing before her were Sirius, Remus, and Harry Potter.
She understood now why no one had spoken yet. It felt as if she had wandered into a dream, and she was not quite sure if what she was seeing was real.
"Harry?" she whispered again, stepping forward. The air was cold on her bare legs; she realized the front door was still open, buoyed by the wind, and yet no one moved to shut it.
Harry's green eyes were open wide; he still had his wand out, but it wasn't pointed at anyone in particular. He stared at her, looking lost—as if he, too, was unsure if the people who stood before him were truly there. But slowly, an expression of consummate joy overtook his worried brow.
"Hermione," he said quietly, his voice cracking, and they ran to each other.
She threw her arms around him and it was true—he was wonderfully solid, he was real, a bit cold from the outdoors, but here.
They pulled apart and Harry looked to Sirius next.
"Sirius, I don't understand… I thought you were…"
They embraced, Harry falling into Sirius' open arms. Sirius' eyes filled—Hermione saw his face over Harry's shoulder, arms thrown around his godson, his eyes squeezing tight as the tears leaking out anyway.
And then, turning to Remus, Harry finally allowed himself to cry, letting out a sob that made him sound very small and young.
"I can't believe you're all alive," he sobbed. "I thought… I just thought most of you, most of the people I cared about, at this point, would be… well, I didn't think I'd ever see any of you again," he finished weakly, standing back to look at the three of them together, shaking his head in disbelief.
He seemed a little lightheaded, so Hermione ushered them all quickly into the kitchen, pressing Harry into a seat at the table, rushing back to the bedroom to grab a dressing gown for her bare legs.
She began to make tea as Harry, Sirius, and Remus began to talk. The fact of Harry's appearance began to settle in, allowing for the logical part of her brain to bubble up with questions: How Harry was here? Why he was here? Should they be concerned? Would they be able to leave now? What was happening?
And, of course, a smaller voice inside of her wondered: What on earth had happened last night?
But that one would have to wait. Harry was here. Harry.
"So, Dumbledore left me this thing called the deluminator, right," Harry was explaining to Remus and Sirius. "Last night I was in this pub, in a disguise—I do that every now and then, to get some real food, I know it's a risk, but I just, er, I get so tired of eating mushrooms all the time—anyway, I was just sitting down to eat when I heard my name. I hadn't heard anyone say my name in months, so it sort of took me by surprise. And on top of that, I could've sworn it was Sirius saying it. And even though I knew—well, I thought I knew," he said, glancing at his very much alive godfather, "that Sirius was dead, and in the back of my head, I was afraid that all of this was a trap, that I might die, but I just—I missed—"
Harry cleared his throat and took a moment to compose himself.
This time it was Sirius and Hermione who exchanged a glance. Sirius had said Harry's name last night, while the two of them were fighting. In fact, Sirius had never referred to Harry by name in the cabin before then, only ever calling him "his godson."
Was there a chance that the deluminator had been triggered simply by Sirius Black uttering the two short syllables of Harry's name?
"Anyway," Harry continued, "I realized pretty quickly that the voice had come from my pack—I'd been carrying the deluminator in there. And I just had this feeling that whatever was happening was important. So I went outside, and I flicked the little switch, and the lantern next to the pub went out. But then this tiny ball of light showed up in front of me."
"Really?" Sirius said, a little skeptically.
Harry nodded and held up his hands to demonstrate. "About the size of a snitch. And at this point, I reckoned whatever was going on, it had something to do with Dumbledore. So I wasn't worried when it moved inside of me—"
"What?" Hermione said, almost dropping a cup.
"Yeah," Harry nodded, as though this was the most natural thing in the world. "I disapparated then, and I guess it must've guided me to where you were. I just knew where I was supposed to go; I started walking off, I guess it would've been in the general, er, northerly direction, and then the cabin was in sight in a few minutes. And, well." He spread his hands. "You know the rest."
"That was dangerous, Harry," Hermione admonished. "You're right—you could've died."
Harry grinned recklessly back at her.
"But it brought me here, didn't it?"
Hermione had no response for that. She was, admittedly, overjoyed to see him.
"Well, my prodigal godson," Sirius cut in. "Now that we know the tale of how you came to be here—where have you been?"
"Horcrux hunting," Harry responded. "Basically, I discovered not long after Fleur and Bill's wedding that Vol—sorry, uh, we aren't supposed to say his name—the taboo. Er, I found out that he had left a horcrux on each continent, give or take. I knew it would likely take me years to find them all, and I knew that it would be dangerous, that there was a good chance I might die in the process. So… I left."
"We would have gone with you, Harry," Hermione said in a small, hurt voice, returning to the table with the four cups and teapot on a levitating tray. She couldn't help feeling hurt that he had made the decision for her. She would have gone anywhere with Harry Potter. It had been that way from the beginning.
"Yes, we would have," Remus agreed.
Sirius stared bitterly into his cup. Hermione knew he was freshly infuriated about the fact that he never would have had the option.
"Anyway, it took ages, but I finally did track them all down. And, miraculously, I'm not dead yet." Harry shook his head in bemusement. "Turns out he went to all this trouble to make them, but he made each one discoverable. Dumbledore was right—he wanted the chance to meet the person who found them all. I'm hoping it's only a matter of time before I can do just that.
"Only thing is, there's one I'm still looking for," he added. "RAB's locket."
"Still?" Hermione said in surprise. Remus and Sirius exchanged confused looks. Harry stopped and described what had happened in the cave the night of Dumbledore's death. How they had gone through those trials together, Harry and Dumbledore, only to discover that the horcrux in the cave was a fake.
"So, all that for nothing?" Sirius said flatly.
"Well, in theory it was destroyed," Harry explained. "That's what RAB intended to do, according to the note. But I have to find it and be sure. Before I confront Vol—him."
Sirius got up without a word; they all exchanged glances, confused. He came back holding something in his hands.
Hermione saw the glint of a gold chain and gasped.
"Merlin. All this time—?"
"RAB," said Sirius, uncoiling the locket from the palm of his hand and letting it hang in the air before the other three.
"Regulus Arcturus Black. My dear brother."
Harry shook his head in shock.
"I don't understand," he said as Sirius sat back down. "How do you have it?"
"We found it, remember? Years ago. When we were cleaning Grimmauld Place," Sirius said, his voice unusually raw and vulnerable. He looked down at the necklace and shook his head. "It's stupid, but when we came across it with the other family heirlooms, Kreacher muttered something about its connection to Regulus. So…" Sirius cleared his throat. "I kept it. Near the end, I guess I'd come to feel badly about the way things got between us. My brother and me. The fact that we never got to fix things before he died. Sometimes I thought… I thought I could've reached him. If I'd only tried a little harder. We were brothers. Maybe I should've tried."
Sirius closed his hand around the locket, pausing to regain control of himself.
"I wore it sometimes. It made me feel close to him again. Like I was bearing a burden for him somehow. For both of us."
"Penance," Remus breathed, and Sirius lowered his eyes.
"Hang on, you've been wearing it?" Harry asked sharply.
Sirius nodded again and Harry shook his head.
"Sirius, the horcruxes have an… effect."
Hermione's thoughts immediately jumped to Sirius' dark moods, and then quite suddenly something else clicked into place.
"You were wearing it that night, weren't you?" she exclaimed. "The night you went through the veil."
"Yeah, I was."
Remus leaned forward, catching on to Hermione's train of thought. "Sirius—that must be why you didn't die. Death couldn't take a horcrux—"
"—and then, somehow, I landed here. In the old Peverell house," Sirius finished. "Because of whatever strange magic this place has in its history."
"Wait, the Peverells…" Harry murmured. "They were the original owners of the Deathly Hallows." He looked around. "Hang on. What is this place?"
A warmth colored Remus' voice as he responded. "It belonged to your grandparents, Harry."
"And apparently it's goddamn purgatory," Sirius muttered, gazing around at the walls with renewed suspicion, but Harry didn't seem to hear him. His eyes had fallen for the first time on the framed portrait of his mother and father. He got up and went to it, picking the frame up and examining the image, his eyes welling with tears. Hermione watched him, marveling again at how different he looked, how much older.
Time had not been kind to any of them, but at least it had brought them together.
"Well," Harry said finally, clearing his throat. "That's it, then." He set the photograph down. "We'll destroy the horcrux, and then we'll go confront him together. We'll finally end this."
Sirius, Remus, and Hermione all exchanged glances. A marvelous plan in theory—if they were able to leave.
They tried to convince Harry that he should take a few days to rest and recuperate, but Harry wouldn't hear of it.
"I've been looking for this damn thing for years," he said, downing the rest of his tea and standing up. "I can't sit idly by when it's right here in front of me. I want to do it right now."
"How have you been destroying the others?" Hermione asked.
Harry held up a finger and retreated to the living room, where they heard him rummage around in his bag for a moment before he returned with something new. Hermione gasped.
"The sword of Gryffindor," Remus said in awe.
"Of course—it only takes in that which makes it stronger," Hermione exclaimed.
"The basilisk venom," said Harry, nodding.
Sirius cracked his knuckles.
"Well, shall we?"
They pushed the living room furniture out of the way, so there was plenty of space for them to handle whatever came next. Harry set the locket down on the floor in the center of the shape they formed together, then stepped back and handed the sword, unexpectedly, to Sirius.
Sirius appeared to be as surprised as the other two, looking the sword up and down before turning to Harry.
"Harry, what—"
"I just have this feeling that you're supposed to do it, Sirius," Harry said simply. "You've been living with it all this time, and your brother was the one who wanted to destroy it. I think it should be you."
When Sirius didn't immediately take the sword, Harry shook the handle lightly, urging him on. After a moment's hesitation, Sirius finally did, eyeing the shining blade with wonder.
"It's all right, we're all Gryffindors here," Harry said cheerily, trying to lighten the mood a bit. Hermione watched Sirius. She could count on one hand the number of instances she'd seen him look genuinely afraid; it seemed now might be one of those times.
"It'll be okay," she said softly, reaching out to touch his arm. She couldn't explain why she did it—instinct, again, or something else. Sirius softened at her touch, looked determinedly down at the locket.
It was time.
Harry bent down to open it, but looked up to offer a brief preface.
"Now, don't listen to it, Sirius," he began haltingly. "That's the most important thing. Just—just try to stab it as quick as you can."
Sirius had already settled into fighting stance, nodding curtly, emanating an aura of strength and undeniable courage—like a true Gryffindor, Hermione thought admiringly—but something in his eyes flickered when Harry said those words.
Of course, at that point it was too late.
An eerie white mist streamed out of the locket, filling the air around them.
The strange fog was so thick for a moment that Hermione lost sight of all the others; all she could see was white. They all choked and coughed as the mist filled their lungs and for a terrifying moment Hermione thought for sure they were all about to die. She reached out blindly to touch whoever was closest to her, but then the mist converged on itself, thickening into the shape of a skull and hovering before Sirius' determined face.
"Ah, so it's you."
The voice came from everywhere and nowhere; the skull's mouth wasn't moving, yet they all heard it speak.
"The other Black brother."
Hermione saw Sirius readjust his grip on the sword, like it was slipping from his hand. He swallowed.
"Kill it, Sirius!" Harry cried, but his voice sounded far away, muted compared to the booming volume of the horcrux.
"He's been dead a long time, your brother," the voice continued. "Regulus."
The mist rearranged itself into a semblance of a pale, handsome young man who looked quite a bit like Sirius.
"Perhaps you could have saved him, if you'd been better," the voice said dispassionately, and the mist reoriented again, this time depicting the same young man lying facedown on a barren mound of earth.
Sirius cried out and turned away from the image, the sword limp in his grasp. Remus moved toward him instinctively, but Harry threw his arm to block Remus' path, saying, "Wait."
Hermione couldn't pull her gaze from Sirius' face, the expression of abject pain that had made a home there.
"But you were never better, were you?" the voice said, as the image of Regulus Black's lifeless body continued to hover unrelentingly before Sirius, taunting him. "I've been with you for years, Black—I've seen it all. I know every dark crevice of your heart. And you know the truth about yourself, don't you—that you never belonged anywhere. You were never a true friend. Never a true love."
Sirius made a weak sound that Hermione had never heard come out of his mouth before. Her heart broke. She looked to Harry desperately, but he was still reaching out his hands as if to say Hold on.
In the meantime, the mist was already rearranging itself again. At first Hermione could only make out an abstract tangle of body parts—the two pearlescent figures shaped from the mist appeared to be nude, tangled up together on a bed. The mist continued to refine and shape the image, the faces. The female figure was riding the male one vigorously, without restraint, animalistically searching out her pleasure and taking it with a frightening hunger.
As the four of them looked on, the female figure reached down between her legs and began to rub herself as the male figure fucked her from below. Her eyes rolled back into her head, her expression one of carnal ecstasy.
It was then that Hermione realized what Sirius already knew—
The figure was her.
The high cold voice laughed as the figures kept grinding against each other with the same unnerving intensity.
Hermione blushed crimson, her eyes darting to Harry. Remus quickly stepped in front of Harry in an effort to shield him.
Sirius was still staring at this beautiful, inhuman version of Remus and Hermione, unable to pry his gaze away.
"Sirius—" Hermione cried out, but the horcrux's voice was louder.
"Do you see a place for you here, Black?"
Cruel laughter reverberated throughout the room so loudly that Hermione clapped her hands over her ears—but she could still hear it.
"Tell me, Black—where do you fit in?"
Hermione tried again to speak, but Sirius was completely lost in the mirage before him.
The false Remus sat up, pressing his chest tightly to the false Hermione's as she rode him. She wound her arms around his neck and head, a terrible smile on her face as she began to move faster. The false Remus buried his face in her breasts, rocking himself harder and harder into her with every stroke.
"Sirius, don't listen to it." Hermione had tears in her eyes. She reached for the hand not holding the sword. Harry, still averting his gaze from the horcrux, didn't stop her.
Sirius didn't even glance at the real Hermione. The voice was laughing again. Sirius' fingers were cold.
"Think of last night, Sirius," Hermione whispered earnestly. "You know it isn't true. Of course there's a place for you with us. As long as you're here. As long as you want one. There's a place for you."
The false Remus coursed in and out of Hermione with impossible speed; she wrapped her arms around his neck and squeezed her eyes shut, letting herself be fucked. The false Remus opened his eyes and looked right at the real Sirius, grinning, mouthing the word Mine.
Sirius groaned in pain. The sword fell from his other hand with a clatter.
Remus couldn't bear it anymore; he finally moved from his place in front of Harry. In one swift motion he'd picked up the sword and put it back in Sirius' hand.
The false Hermione and Remus were now locked in shared orgasm, Remus pumping luxuriously in and out of her as Hermione threw her head back in an expression of terrible ecstasy.
These two were happy without Sirius. They did not want him.
But the image was a lie.
Remus grabbed Sirius by the back of his neck and pressed his forehead to Sirius'. At last the spell that the horrible vision had wrought over Sirius was broken; he looked desperately into Remus' eyes.
"He's lying. You know he's lying. Don't let him do this to us." Remus held his gaze. "You're strong, Sirius. You're so brave. You're the bravest person I've ever known."
And then Remus kissed him, hard and quick.
"You know what you have to do," Remus finished, stepping back. "Harry's right. It has to be you."
Hermione gripped his other hand tighter.
In one quick motion Sirius raised the sword into the air and brought it down on the locket with an anguished cry.
A horrible scream pierced their ears as the image dissolved into a hundred pieces, which then evaporated into nothingness.
Sirius looked around at the three of them, panting. Harry took his hand away from his eyes.
And just like that, the room was exactly as it had been.
