September 19th, 2005.
Hermione tried to pull energy from within her to stand up—or even just buy some time—but once Diggory yelled out Crucio, she knew she had no more to give. The blood she'd lost from before did nothing but weaken her limbs further. A familiar cry ripped itself from her mouth, her body shaking in agony.
Her nails ripped into her palms, her senses rapidly deteriorating. Her head pounded, feeling as though it was being split open with a slow, chilled knife. She shook violently and her vision faded as she tried to turn her head towards the door. Her blurred eyes caught the sight of the mop of black hair she'd grown to adore.
Her screaming stopped and she heard the thumping of feet approaching. Diggory caught her sleeve and dragged her weight back up, the screaming pain from her body increasing heavily.
"STOP!" she heard Harry scream, panic evident in his voice. The older man ignored him, instead forcing her limp body to face the Veil, close enough to feel the chilling breeze it erupted.
His eyes flashed and he brought his hands up to hold her by her throat, clutching it tightly. A hoarse wail poured from her mouth, but he didn't let go. "Stop lying, you bitch," he spat, dark and fierce.
"You brought your friends back and if you don't give me my Cedric, I'll throw you in there myself," he threatened, his fingers still holding onto her limp body with a death grip.
A black pit opened in her stomach in a promise to swallow her whole, and she gasped for breath. Fear spiked through her half-alert mind and she managed to choke out, "I don't know how—please! It was by accident."
He roared in anger and he continued to push her closer to her inevitable death. She felt her blood drain, when the wards broke and Harry ran inside, separating them both and pushing them on each side of the room.
Her ribs crunched painfully, but she didn't care to mind as she hit the ground. Her head lolled to the side and she heard Harry scream out Petrificus Totalus. His voice leaked in cold and sharp and the thud she caught told her of what was happening.
Harry's steps started sounding louder, with twice the speed. He dropped to her side and she saw a glimpse of his worried look. "Hermione! Don't worry, you—I'll get you out of here. I promise."
The panic in his voice was evident and she suppressed the need to comfort him like she was so used to. She clutched the front of his robes with a vice like grip, fearful that if she let go, they would both slip into the Veil. He helped her off the ground, voice quivering as he murmured encouraging words and soothed her back.
She held back a whimper, desperate to look at the bright, emerald hues of his eyes—find the usual love and warmth they bore—but she had to eventually give in to darkness.
Hermione's eyes fluttered through her thick lashes. She was grateful for the drawn curtains in whatever room she was in, until panic came flooding in at the thought of being inside the Veil.
Only after she saw Sirius's hair sprawled all over her lap, with his hand clutching hers, did she release a shaky breath.
Sirius shot up his head at the sound, his eyes widening momentarily as his shoulders sagged in relief.
"Kitten," he murmured throatily, looking every sense of dishevelled. "I was so worried."
"What happened?" She grimaced at the groggy tone that came out of her dry, parched throat.
A shadow fell over his face and he drew small circles on top of her hand with his thumb, their fingers still intertwined. "Harry received a Patronus sometime after you left. He stopped the fucker and got you here soon after the Curse-Breaker broke through the wards."
He helped her sit up and she settled back with a wince, her head beginning to pound. "Where am I?" she asked, after taking the glass of water he'd handed her and gulping down a big sip.
"We're at St. Mungo's. Harry left just now—shit, I should probably call that git of a Healer," he told her through gritted teeth, his voice trailing off as he headed out of the room momentarily and came back with the git, as he had so called him.
Hermione relaxed greatly when she saw the actual Healer that she'd gotten so used to seeing. She grinned, though it came out as a weak grimace, and she didn't fail to notice Sirius's surprised look. "Malfoy," she greeted easily.
The blond nodded. "Granger." He proceeded to wave his wand to attend her injuries and cast a Diagnostic Charm. "I see you've been making new enemies."
She shrugged. "Yes, well . . ."
Sirius looked bewildered. "You're okay with this? With . . . him?" he questioned, his lips curling up in distaste at the last part.
"Why would I not be? Sirius, he is not his father and maybe, we shouldn't talk about this whilst he's in the room."
"Fifty points to Gryffindor," muttered Malfoy, unfazed by Sirius's reaction, and she rolled her eyes at his usual snark.
"How are you feeling? I need you to drink this potion for the Cruciatus after-effects."
"It's nothing I haven't experienced before," she joked half-heartedly, but shrunk down immediately when she received two glares. She swallowed the green liquid she was given, ignoring the foul smell it erupted, and she blanched at the now empty vial.
"Yes, Granger. Not the best taste. Maybe you should become a Potioneer, instead of hunting down Wizards," he remarked flatly, moving away from the bed without a look back at Sirius.
"I think I'm good," she threw back and tried to give him a shrug, but she stopped immediately at the sharp pain that erupted in her shoulders.
"Are you sure?" Sirius demanded, throwing his hands up in the air and looking at her with eyes so wild she hadn't seen since fifth year. "Because as far as I know, you were inches away from falling into the Veil and fucking dying, Hermione!"
"Sirius Black! Give the poor girl some space," said a voice at the door, and they all turned to see the Potters and Weasleys scurrying to her bedside.
Malfoy quietly slid out of the room, and she stifled a tired sigh at that. Instead, she turned to look at Lily with a small smile. "Thanks, Lily."
Lily looked over her frame in worry before meeting her gaze and smiling back. "You're welcome. How are you feeling?"
"How do you think she's going to feel after going on a mission alone?" Harry asked, exasperation and frustration melting all the same into his words.
Hermione groaned and turned to glance at him as he sat by her legs. "Not you, too," she pleaded, and he glared at her for a few seconds before looking down in defeat.
He raked a hand through his hair. "Sorry."
"Did you do it?" she asked after a couple of beats.
"Huh—oh, I did. She said yes." Harry grinned, though the worried turmoil could still be seen in his eyes.
"Congratulations!" She beamed at the ring that sat on Ginny's finger.
The redhead walked closer and fisted her hands on her hips. "Now, we just need my bridesmaid to get well soon."
Hermione's smile broadened at her words and she let her body slump against the bed. She glanced around the room and sighed in content, knowing well that she was safe and with the people she loved.
Though her smile soon faltered, and Harry, being the shrewd boy he was, caught the change instantly. "What is it?"
"What happened to Diggory?" Hermione felt her throat tighten as memories of the man flashed in her mind.
Harry locked his jaw tightly, looking so much older as he did so. "We took him for questioning and found out he was being Imperiused."
She thought back to his glazed eyes and nodded slowly. "Did you find out who was behind it?"
He shook his head and she bit her bottom lip, careful to not bombard him with questions.
Sirius moved up against the wall and approached her with small steps, looking at her carefully. As he watched her yawn, the corners of his lips quirked up.
"I think," he began, his voice soft but clear," we should let her get some sleep."
She swallowed thickly, unable to look away from his gaze. Hermione couldn't deny that Sirius Black was able to stir up intense emotions in her. She wasn't sure it was something minded, at all.
Slowly, the room began to empty, leaving behind a weary looking Sirius. She watched him slump against the chair by her bedside.
"You don't have to stay," she told him, careful not to give away the hope that dimmed slightly in her stomach.
His eyes flickered to hers and he gave her a lazy smile. "Oh, but I want to," he murmured, gently tapping the tip of her nose with his index finger.
She let out a huff and he leaned in closer, holding her lightly to help her lay back down. He smoothed the pillow against her head and fixed the blanket draped on top of her. He ran a hand through her curls and soon enough, she welcomed sleep once more.
September 25th, 2005.
"Why haven't you eaten yet?"
Sirius crossed his legs gracefully and looked back up from the magazine he was reading. He shook his head and his face split into a grin. "I thought we could eat together."
"You should've told me!" she sputtered. It had been almost a week since the accident and Sirius had been stuck to her hip practically for every hour of the day. Not only that, he'd even stopped riling her up, and she wasn't sure she liked that. Which was . . . well, concerning.
He gestured with his hand, silently telling her to join him. She complied, shuffling quietly as she sank down to face him across the table.
"Why are you being so nice?" she finally blurted out as they began to eat.
His brows arched high in disbelief and he slowly set down the glass of Firewhiskey he was holding. "You don't want me to be nice?"
"Yes—No . . . I mean. I just don't understand why you're acting so different," she stammered, eyeing him appraisingly.
"Well," he said, his tone now starting to sound defensive. "I guess I just momentarily regretted being a dick to you so many times when I . . ."
"When you?"
His voice cracked and he cleared his throat. "When I found out you were hurt. I guess I just realized I should've probably treasured the moments we got together. And I even had plans," he said, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.
She bit down a fond smile, noting how adorable Sirius Black looked. "Plans like what?"
"Plans like watching more films with you," he told her with a sincere expression, and anyone would've been a fool to deny him that.
"Of course, we can do that!" Hermione beamed at him and clasped her hands together. She was being honest; she'd loved spending time with him ever since he'd come back, and deep down, she wanted to jump at the chance of getting to know him more.
When they had that conversation the day of her birthday, she'd been able to see a whole different side of him and she was amazed at how gorgeous he'd looked, listening to her and nodding thoughtfully. Never, she thought as she stared at him, did she think someone could be so perfect.
He was beautiful in every sense of the word, inside and out. He cleaned up nicely; the signs of Azkaban no more haunting him like a trail behind him. She always struggled not to get lost in his deep, grey eyes. Not watching him eye to eye always ended with her gaze shifting to his perfectly sculpted cheekbones—peppered by the light facial hair she would love to scratch—and his toned chest failing to hide underneath his shirt.
And Hermione knew. She knew that he found her attractive, as well. She saw it in his obvious stares and flirty lines. The latter being the actual problem. She wasn't sure how far and deep the attraction ran. Hermione didn't want to be played by him for a one time thing and then have to deal with the ache it may leave behind.
Of course, Hermione had one night stands before, but it felt different with Sirius. Not only was he her best friend's Godfather and her own friend, she was going to have to continue living with him. What if she got too attached and had to deal with seeing him bring other witches home without looking obviously jealous?
But he doesn't do that anymore, a voice reasoned with her. Was that right? She thought back to the past few months of him being back. Despite no longer being on the run and having his name cleared, she never saw him come home with a woman.
She bit her lip, her gut clenching in guilt for sleeping with Blaise. She admitted it was solely because she'd seen a blonde clutch onto Sirius's arm and he had sent her a smile that could've only been perceived as flirty.
She sighed in defeat, no longer knowing what was true and what was false.
Sirius's voice broke through her thoughts. "Something on your mind, Kitten?" he asked, his head tilted quizzically like a puppy.
She propped her elbows on the table and leaned forward, staring at his mercurial eyes.
"I was thinking," she paused to glare at his feigned, shocked gasp. "Wouldn't you rather want to spend your Friday night with . . . someone else?"
She tried valiantly to fight the flock of butterflies that burst to life in her gut when his lips curled into a smug, knowing smirk. "Someone like who?"
She swallowed, not liking his tone. "Like a woman, perhaps—or just the boys too."
"You sound like you're the one who has plans—"
"No!" she interrupted, shaking her head quickly. She stopped immediately when he started to chuckle at her reaction, his eyes sparkling with mirth. A frown marred her face and she threw a piece of bread at him, which he swiftly avoided as he ducked. Good Godric, he looked sexy doing just about anything.
"Trust me, Hermione. You are the only woman who's had my attention for a long time now."
Heat swam in the depth of his eyes and the way he said her name sent a shiver down her spine.
The breath left her in a whoosh. "Oh."