Hermione saw them waiting on the other side of platform 9 3/4. The Grangers' city clothes fit in nicely with the sleek King's Cross walls and floors. They stood off to the side as a stream of tourists lumbered passed. The Grangers among several other muggleborn families waiting by the pillar. Careening her trolley out of the students and crowd she stopped abruptly next to them. Hermione threw herself at the elder Grangers with a woop. Her dad laughed and caught her, swinging her up and around. He did it every year, but this summer it meant so much more. She'd always thought herself rather independent and only with three years away from them Hermione realized just how much she hated being apart. She couldn't imagine if they lived on different continents and this sort of thing was regular. Three years, no holiday dinners, no casual morning coffee together, no seeing her dad ramble on at her mum as the woman drove them through slow and often congested traffic, and all the other banal things Hermione never thought she'd miss. Three years was too long. Hermione promised herself she'd fix this. She refused to get used to this sort of separation.
"Oh honey how you've grown. I feel each time that school takes you away it's stealing you from us."
Hermione's face pressed in her mum's shoulder, her reply wet and indistinct. She wanted to tell them. Only coming up for air to gasp out, "I... Mum, Dad, something did happen... It's aged me physically and mentally... I'll tell you what I can, but..."
She couldn't tell them everything, but maybe tonight at dinner she could explain the repercussions. Her new birthday, the new day marking her new aging, the things she'd been able to learn this year, the responsibilities she now had for the wolfsbane and the twins' business, the fact there'd be trials coming up she'd have to be present for. They'd always treated her like a miniature adult, now she was one. Pint sized and able to sign official Wizengamot documents. Unaware of her daughter's thoughts, mum reassured and tightened her hold.
"So it's not just puberty then. Oh Hermione," Her mother clutched her tighter. Her dad draped his arm over them, and in the middle of their warm hug she let out a shaky breath.
"Whatever it is, whatever you need, we'll be here. We had a feeling something was going on in that damn man's school. Something always is." Her mother's frustrated rant made Hermione chuckle from the depths of the embrace. It was shaky but full of fondness.
"It's been such a hard term. Everything, it was just too much sometimes."
"Well we'll wisk you away and you won't have to worry so much about it for a while."
Hermione's smile wobbled but held. She nodded her head fervently as her dad tucked her under his arm and towed them away. Her mother grunting in the effort to steer the unwieldy trolley with the obnoxiously sized standard school trunk. Dad squeezed her shoulder, watching his wife force the trolley into submission.
He leaned down to whisper, "Isn't there something to automatically shrink and lighten that thing?"
Hermione laughed. Oh it was so good to have the carbon copy of her brain back. She whispered along, "Dad you wouldn't believe-"
They walked off. Hermione's explanation flowing the entire way through the station and to the car park. It was Thursday June 30th and summer was finally here.
As it turns out her parents already volunteered to work on Saturday July 2nd. They did rotations at the local shelter, had been doing so for years, and the shelter's clinic didn't exactly adhere to normal dentist hours. So working all day Saturday they were. Working on her new birthday. The fates had doomed Hermione Granger from the start, she thought. These are the kind of people who raised her. Of course she'd be the sort to volunteer herself for half giants and werewolves in need of potions. Use a time turner to learn Goblin and Elf magic because weren't they just as valuable, of course they were. Use it to spend time with a lonely man in a cave and spend an inordinate amount of time trying to recall books from memory so he could have company when she couldn't be there. Of course she'd volunteer herself to the point of aging her body into a new birthday. A conveniently placed birthday as she really would rather her parents be visiting with patients than at home when Sirius Black, wanted criminal from the telly's news, showed up.
They promised they'd be back at 18:00, carrying cake and streamers they joked, and Hermione was relieved she wouldn't have to hedge excuses about meeting strange and suspect wizards. She would introduce them someday, but that day would be after the bobbies and DMLE stopped breaking down doors to find him. Once he'd been cleared of charges Hermione rather thought they'd enjoy meeting Lord Black and hearing how he'd spent months in a cave reading muggle books Hermione transfigured for him. The Winston Churchill biography was her mother's after all.
It was sitting in the sun of her backyard, listening to the radio, she wondered if Sirius actually would agree to meet her parents. After his trial he'd have everything open to him again. The thought stirred up her mind. The man was thankful to her, maybe even a little possessive of her, but right now she was the only thing he had. As if to prove this, not an hour later Hermione felt a tug around her torso. It clawed, constricting around her for one minute, then two. With a crack of apparition Sirius Black stood above her.
With him standing so near she could feel the tracking charm unfurl and roil under her skin, as if he was pulling himself closer by activating the spell. The pressure sunk deeper, curling around her heart, finding it, and then it withdrew. Hermione's breath came out fast, very very certain that if he'd any desire to kill her right then the spell would have accommodated. Fucking shit. She stumbled to her feet. Some pop song sung in the background and with a twitch of her hand turned the radio off.
Now the magic was actively in use Hermione saw how clearly the tracker curse had been attaching them. When he lowered his wand and terminated the curse she watched in eerie fascination as his magic crept back, slithering away as if the connection had never been there. Was this permanent? She really should have asked. Why hadn't she asked? For the sake of his feelings?
Oh Flitwick would have so many issues with this. Hermione felt only marginally relieved Sirius never activated it her last week at Hogwarts. Her guardian would have found a way to reverse the effects to hunt him down. Was she allowing this because she thought the man pretty? Oh this was a bad idea. She should have just arranged a place and time to meet like normal people. But no, she'd walked right into the trust test and damn it was freaking her out. That thing had been inside her chest, was still inside her chest only now it sat silent and waiting. If something did happen her guardian was currently in Egypt. Hermione supposed if she was going to be stupid enough to allow a dark tracker curse on her person she'd just have to deal with the extenuating issues herself.
She gave a slightly nervous smile, "I don't suppose you wanted to just go for a walk." Hermione rubbed her chest.
He held out his hand. A wicked amusement wafting off him as she stared at it. He'd proven so many times he wasn't going to harm her. It's just the reality of his magic was... Not what she'd ever experienced before.
He stepped forward, an easy stride and an equally easy drawl, "Don't you think you should've been concerned about that before now?" Before he was at her house, before he knew where she lived, before she'd agreed to a tracker curse on her, and before he'd placed what felt like a living thing with claws curling up to sleep in her chest.
"Probably." She eyed his hand. Still wary Hermione pushed, "Where are we going? No more surprise apparitions. We've moved past that point ya? We can trust each other."
The ex-auror seemed pleased. She stared at him. He stared back. His wafting magic grew more amused and something else. Pride?
"We're going to Crawley. I promise on my magic I'll remove that tracker by the end of summer. I chose this one as it's one of the hardest to remove, nearly impossible, and because of your association with me you've a rather large target on you. It would have let me know if you were under serious harm. If you'd rather I remove it now just say and it's gone."
She watched him, the glow from the vow taking hold inside him to make him accountable. His form of protection was different. Foreign. It didn't mean it was evil. She felt only truth from him and the vow verified it. His hand still reached out for her.
She took it, "What's in Crawley?"
His lips turned and spread into one of the easiest looks she'd ever seen on his face. He just dragged her close, smiled down at her, and spun them. The crack of the magical world's teleportation left them in a dingy alley smelling of last nights dinner and every dinner spilled in the dumpster for the past few months. Now it was summer the early morning temperatures left its scent even more ripe. The alley's pungent smell hit them as soon as they landed.
"Ugh. Don't towns have an official apparition point?"
He chuckled next to her. Promising, "This is it. I swear. Crawley's never been known for its high incomes and I bet the Transport Office didn't even think about it. Not like any of them have been here."
He pulled her out of the alley, letting go of her hand when he didn't find anything out of order. Or this is what she assumed he was doing as he stood at the alley entrance for a full minute scanning the street, its cars, and its people. She hadn't expected to be towed to a large building bustling with a line stretching out the door. A big sign declaring, "1994 Comedy Saturdays."
"I can't believe you found this."
"Hm. Turns out Crawley Cinema has a double showing in honor of Jim Carey's two new movies The Mask and Ace Ventura Pet Detective. The one and only movie I saw was Star Wars. 1977 there was such a frenzy about it Lily snuck James and I out from a Yule party at Potter Manor and took us to a cinema, que stretching out for hours in the slush and snow. James just about fainted when the moving picture boomed out music with all that yellow text."
She grinned. As they shuffled closer with the crowd she found herself next to another poster. The faces on it showcased the other big hit. Titled, "Shawshank Redemption," with a summary below telling the story of an innocent man in a rough prison. Sometimes stories hit too close to home in all the wrong ways. Like asking Sirius to have lunch with a dementor. Fortunately, they soon shuffled along and found themselves queuing in the shockingly busy lobby.
Hermione leaned close, "It's been so long since I've been to a theater. This is really the best. How did you find it? Are you spending your time grocery shopping at their Iceland Foods?"
He shrugged.
"You are," She smiled. The idea of the wizarding mastermind and supposed right hand man of the darkest lord in history had regularly been visiting the local grocer's chain, Hermione's grin grew.
"It's easier to blend in with people who don't know transfiguration exists. Much less work and worry. You think I'm completely incapable woman?"
"No. No, not at all. You're very capable." She added dramatically, "I'm sure."
He dragged her closer, tucking her into his side. Sirius simultaneously eyed the cinema lobby for all the odd things which may or may not be there. With his arm resting on her shoulder she could feel his wand just within reach of his hand. He was stiff. She realized the crowd bothered him. Being in public and around people bothered him. When a child screamed behind them she felt Sirius shift, tighten his grip, and send another glance around the room.
She leaned her head in, "It's ok. Everything will be ok."
He didn't shift or loosen his hold, but his head tilted marginally. The theatre itself was only slightly better and when he led her to the very back row and planted a wall at their backs and side she didn't say anything. Getting away wasn't typically a problem for wizards but getting hit from behind certainly was. "They can't fight back if they don't know you're there," kind of mentality. Hermione wondered if he'd been this way before his year on the run, if this was an auror thing, or if it was born from more recent experiences. Regardless, she let herself be shoved into the theatre's corner with grace. It was actually nice having to only share one armrest. She always had been a window person on the planes as well. Part of her subconscious wanting to avoid contact and conversation with the general public. Then the movie started and oh wow.
Hermione thought she might have terrible humor, for when Jim Carrey talked out of his ass at the Chief of Police she laughed so hard she fell into Sirius' shoulder. Not the nice sort of laugh either, but a surprised belting of it which wasn't good for impressing anyone. Except maybe for startling them. The woman in front of her certainly was, when her head whipped around to glare at the pair of them. Hermione might have felt worse if she was the only one losing it. That woman left during the intermission and never returned for the second show.
Perhaps it was the effect of her laughing over Sirius for the past hour and a half, the extended crowd exposure, the jokes of a strange pants man running around in a tutu, but the tension had drained from the man next to her. She could feel Sirius vibrating. His magic swirling and mirthful.
In the dark theatre, just as the film showed Jim Carrey on a bridge and dropping his mask into the water below, Hermione looked over to Sirius' easy face. She observed his transfiguration, his off-colored hair and eyes, the way he'd altered the jaw of his face. He'd laughed more that past hour than she'd ever seen him. Hermione wondered what it was about the animal lover and green masked characters had appealed so much to him, but she wouldn't ask around so many people.
When the second movie ended it was her who grabbed him and pulled him through the throng. Out the cinema and tearing back down the direction they came. She'd seen a store and she'd be buying them ice cream. Hermione did however ease up when he bent over in the middle of the sidewalk. She turned to see what was wrong only for his shoulders begin to shake, followed by long, harsh coughs. Their sound wet and labored. Hermione's eyebrows knit in worry. The man needed a healer. Living in a cave all winter, warming spells or not, wasn't healthy. She didn't dare ponder on the conditions in the actual government run facility. Hermione had read too many things to imagine anything good about the place.
He stood straight again, his face set and inscrutable save the color.
"Is there anything I can do?"
He shook his head.
After they found the store selling crappy tea and magnum ice cream Hermione foisted both on him. He drank the tea. Not saying a thing about its bitter re-heated flavor. The ice cream however, he hadn't touched.
"It won't hurt you... I don't think." She actually didn't know. Would eating something cold make his symptoms worse if he was suffering from a longterm lung condition? She didn't think so...
"It's fine. It's just I've never seen a blob of iced cream with a stick stuck in it."
He eyed her treat as it looked straight out of the package. Hermione bit into it. He didn't look impressed, turning to give his own a dubious consideration. She supposed sweets on sticks was an incredibly muggle thing to do. Even blood pops were relatively new to the Wizarding world, borrowed from the busyness of the fast world around them which always seemed to be eating and drinking on the go.
"Oh come on," She protested, "There's no way you won't like this. What about Fortescue's bars? The store on the north of Diagon? It's next to the bookstore."
He shook his head, "It wasn't there before. The only iced cream I've had, it was always made by the elves." He shrugged, not invested in the topic.
"Sirius you don't have to eat it. It's ok. You can throw it away. My feelings won't be hurt, promise."
He sat next to her, the street bench meant for seating from a restaurant long closed and insides stripped bare. It's bench creaked under their combined weight when Sirius leaned back. When he tried the treat he didn't make a single noise, he just ate and she sent him increasingly worried looks. His magic dark and dim, sluggish and slow. Something bothered him.
She wondered how many other wizards would need to have an allergic reaction to some leaves in order to see things this way. Or was it the nature of magical accidents that some people just reacted differently? Hermione wondered if it would have different effects if she hadn't been so deeply steeped in time sand's magic at the time. She didn't notice him turning his attention back to her.
"What are you worrying about?"
"You. Me. How overworked I was till I started using the time turner properly. I had a bad reaction to the divination tea and the two substances might have affected each other. Muggle doctors are always having to be careful what they mix for their patients. Some can have really bad results. Mine, it affected my sleep. I had these nightmares which kept coming true."
"You must have been stressed out."
"Putting it mildly. I think the sleep deprivation was turning me around the bend. I'd destroyed my dream journal, earning probably the lowest grade in my year. That same week I walked out of Trelawney's divination class, destroying a set of seer's balls on the way out, when she predicted Harry's impending death for the forth week in a row. I just couldn't take it. It's... In my dreams I'd been seeing him either dead or unconscious. Everything else in my tea reaction dreams came true. I'm worried that will too. People keep coming after him and Dumbledore doesn't seem able to stop any of it. Or he's more like an observer as it plays out. I'm not sure."
His magic wafting around was still dim, but instead of staying close to him it unconsciously reached for her. It's sluggish dark pressure ebbed at her side. He was still listening.
"After I damaged Trelawney's stuff my friend thought I was going to be expelled. Neville fretted and promised he wouldn't let them take me to St. Mungos. Apparently his parents are there and he nearly broke down Professor Sprout's door demanding the Heads gang up to let me stay, getting halfway through his bid before it became apparent I'd only been given detention for a week."
"Longbottom?"
"Ya. Completely different reaction from what I got from the Weasley Twins-pranksters they are-those two were already naming mock divination products in my honor. I don't think I'll ever convince them to drop it."
The man next to her frowned as if something didn't make sense, "What did you mean Dumbledore didn't seem able to stop it?"
Sirius sat on that uncomfortable bench in Crawley and listened to her talk about her nightmares of losing Harry. The woman went on to tell him a surprising series of events. How she'd nearly lost him so many times in just their first two years of school. Suddenly her guardian's fervor in teaching her creature defense spells made sense. Of all the wandless magic they'd already had encounters with more dangers than should be around a school. He scowled.
"I was petrified in the hospital wing. I sometimes could hear what was going around me, people talking, but I couldn't move or speak. Harry was there, found my notes, and he said he was going into the chamber of secrets chasing the basilisk and the person controlling it. Well they were attempting to save Ginny. Only they were rushed and not thinking. Of all the more competent teachers on staff, they were taking that imbecile of a defense teacher. We've had two attempts from defense teachers trying to harm us so far and they shouted they'd go grab Lockhart. I heard them discuss all of this before they ran off and I couldn't do a thing. That was the last thing I heard for a while. I was petrified for another month thinking I'd lost my first friend, my little brother."
He let her talk, just listening, after so much silence for so long hearing someone's voice was nice. Hearing someone so full of smarts and heart lightened the weights of the world pressing down on him. When she went silent, it wasn't truly silent. There was shifting of clothes, the sound of air blowing through her hair, the way she breathed steady and present. He let it wash over him. They stayed there till late afternoon. It must have been an hour where she didn't press him to speak, just waiting.
When he did feel like saying something Sirius found himself speaking on what he hadn't in years.
"Watching them go, not being able to do anything, and knowing it could happen again. The nightmares of losing someone who might as well be family for how much you'd do to keep them around, only to find you couldn't. Mine... Two freshly dead only for one more to frame me and the last one to willingly let me rot for 12 years. Did you know your current defense professor and I used to share a dorm together? He's the reason I became an animagus."
Hermione's eyes searched then went wide, "Because of his moons. They don't attack animals, only humans, as forced by the curse."
Sirius gave her that easy smile, a satisfied sound leaving his throat. His throat flexed and relaxed. She watched it move.
"I wish you could have been around then. One term of thrice a week classes, seeing the raggedy wolf, and you figured it out when all of Gryffindor tower had been oblivious, despite seeing him every day for seven terms. Even Lily had to be let in on the secret eventually."
His smile dimmed.
Hermione summarized, "You're not friends anymore. You didn't reach out to him."
"He believed I was capable of slaughtering the closest thing I ever had to family. He helped the Aurors at first, you know? If there were any doubts in his mind he still let them lock me up. Whether that was Albus' design I'm still not sure."
She stayed quiet.
Once Sirius started to talk it was as if he'd spent all his energy holding this back for too long and he couldn't keep it in. He was just so tired. Sometimes he wanted to go to sleep and never wake up again, but those had been on the worst days. When his mind had been so frazzled, scattered, and blindingly angry. He hadn't had any of those for a long time, since the past fall. The anger had been replaced by this calm. This summer remained hopeful and the clarity was coming easier and easier. He could see the anger now, recognize it, and though it was exhausting he could almost put it aside.
Oh, but that only made it so obvious how deep his anger went. Even if he could control himself. He wanted to be angry. Angry at the Ministry, angry at his cousins, angry at the entire Order of Bloody Chickens.
Under different circumstances he might have forgiven Remus just to have someone real to cling to after 12 years of nightmares. But each day his mind was getting a little clearer. Then he heard her speaking to Hagrid, concerned that a mass murdering convict hadn't received a trial and questioning just how weird that was.
By the Earth Sages he'd followed her. Every morning she went running with some new welt on her cheek or arms from a dueling session. Every time she went to see Hagrid and plan the half Giant's defense for his right to wield a wand. Then just a girl, if anyone could call her something so belittling, was brilliant. Her tight mind punched hard and little issues like a half Giant's undeserved imprisonment (twice) in Azkaban fell before her. And she did it not because Hagrid was a friend, but because it was the right thing to do. He'd half a mind she would do the same for Rabastan Lestrange or ickle little Dolohov (and maybe she should as those two were the youngest kids along with his brother to be forcibly marked). He followed her because he saw maybe his original plans were stupid and fueled by nightmares. Yet following her from a distance wasn't anything like having her around, present, speaking, casually smiling.
With exposure to someone intelligent and so full of color, well she positively beamed for how bright she was. He felt as if he was basking in it. Her presence soothing the crawling feeling over his skin. The accidental touches to remind him this was real. She was real.
The conversation which stimulated his mind over material not even talked about in 7th year classes. His auror sharpened mind that willingly traversed twists and complexities. She was single handedly bringing him back. Even if he'd never quite be his old self. At least he felt stable.
The well of contentment forming was something he didn't think he'd ever felt, even as a Gryffindor running after James and thinking up solutions to the other man's schemes. No, whatever this is was different and nice.
He stood to apparate her home.
She'd just spent half an hour telling him about a muggle amusement park she used to love visiting, how she hadn't gone in years because her parents' schedules became busier and busier.
"We should go."
"We won't have time now."
"So I'll meet you for it after the trial."
Her eyes widened. What, did she think he was going to abandon her the moment he was free? He chuckled. No, she had no idea. He'd let her grow up a bit more, experience a few more things before he acted, but he wasn't letting her go.