She'd done it.
Actually, done it.
Sirius was here before her, standing on that rocky platform like it was 1996 again. But he was different, even though his clothes looked the same as they had that day. His eyes were different; they were grey and void like the veil he came through. He was panic and confused, yet she looked at her and through her at the same time.
"Hermione?"
His broken voice kicked her mind back into gear. She had to get him out of the Ministry; no one could know he was here. Thankfully her untraditional work schedule was on her side tonight; there wouldn't be many people around at 2 am. Even in the Department of Mysteries, she was the only one who logged such long and strenuous hours.
"I'll explain everything, Sirius, I promise."
He only nodded back, his eyes vacant once again.
"I need to get you somewhere safe now. Please, trust me."
She grabbed his arm, pulling him down of the platform. He followed after her, blindly letting her pull him out of the room. His shaggy hair was almost unmistakable, but the years since his death were also on their side. Hermione cast a disillusionment charm upon the two of them to be safe, hoping that if they did run into anyone, it would help divert their attention. Her often unused office was only a quick walk from the arch room, and they all but ran their together. Their steps echoing too loudly across the marble, it was deafening to Hermione, and her heart threatened to beat right out of her chest.
Finally, her name's shining gold letters came into view; the large black door looming in the distance. She could only sigh in relief as her fingers wrapped around the door handle, finally knowing they were at least semi-hidden once again.
"Hermione." Again, he said only her name staring at her with blank eyes. It chilled her to her core; she hadn't planned on Sirius coming back and not being quite right.
"We need to get out of here, and we can't leave an obvious trail."
It was like a spark lit behind his eyes; her challenge so similar to ones he faced during the war seemed to draw a bit of the old Sirius out again.
"Why?"
"Because you aren't supposed to be alive, Sirius." She tried to say it gently, but there was nothing gentle about what she was saying to him.
He just stared back blankly, which was a better reaction than she expected, honestly. It was obviously a shock, and maybe his silence would be better than him having a full breakdown.
"We need to make sure we don't leave a direct trail," Hermione said slowly, wishing she could give him more time to process, but their situation left them none. "We will have to make a couple stops before-"
"Just do it, Hermione." Sirius' voice was insistent even though he didn't quite understand what she was going on about.
"Okay, okay." She needed to get it together, and she knew that. Hermione needed to think and plan, but it was hard to focus on anything except her pounding heart and Sirius's blank eyes.
"We just need to get out of here; then I can plan," Hermione said, mostly to herself.
She grabbed his hand again, pulling him towards the large fireplace behind her desk. Her floo was monitored, but if she could have them basically side-along floo, a simple confundus charm might be enough to throw off the Ministries tracking. They weren't embroiled in war any longer, and thus their security had been greatly lessened in recent years.
"Confundus," She muttered harshly, praying to every god she could think of as she flourished her wand that this worked, and they could escape undetected.
They stepped inside the hearth together, though Hermione made sure not to catch his vacant gaze. It made it harder to focus on keeping them hidden and not on how badly she'd messed up. She had an idea of where to go.
"Arlesford!" Hermione cried with a throw of floo powder, and a torrent of green flame engulfed the two.
When they shot out the other side, Hermione was reminded of why she preferred apparition. The soot and heat from the floo system were almost unbearable, and the way they were spat out in a heap on the floor was less than ideal. Both took a few moments of gasps and groans to get themselves up off the floor and straightened out.
"Where are we?"
"An abandoned cottage in Arlesford," Hermione checked out the windows to ensure there was no one around who could've followed them. It was dark, and they were very isolated out here, but she had to be sure.
"How'd you know it was here?" She was glad he was talking more but now really wasn't the time for his questions.
"It doesn't matter, Sirius," spinning around to face him once more. "We need to keep moving."
He just stared back at her, waiting for instructions. It was a tad shocking; the Sirius she remembered from when she was 16 was far more vocal and involved. But now was not the time to fix him but instead to cover up her mistake.
"Do you feel up to side-along apparition?"
"Hermione-"His tone was uncertain, but she couldn't let him derail everything now.
"I know, Sirius, I know." She tried to assure him, "But there's only one place I can think to take you, and I'm the secret keeper. I would have to bring you there myself."
"Are you sure this is a good idea?"
"We don't have any other choice, Sirius," Hermione could feel her hands shaking now, "I brought you back from the dead; I'll go to Azkaban for this."
She saw a flash of recognition in his eyes and regretted bringing up that horrible place. But she wasn't lying; what she'd done is technically necromancy. A very dark form of magic, regardless of the reasons for using it. It was a crime, she is a criminal, and now she needed to figure out how to save both of them.
"Okay." Sirius relented, the thoughts of his former prison enough to push into action.
He was beside her in an instant, linking their arms together and holding her tightly against him. Despite his vacant expression, she couldn't help the way her skin tingled when he touched her. It was as if her body, or the magic inside her, knew he was different. She wasn't sure if he was dead or undead, but Hermione only prayed she didn't splinch him; images of a bloodied Ron on the floor of the forest of dean flashed in her mind, but she tried to push them away. There was no time.
She hesitated, and Sirius could sense it.
"I'll be fine, Hermione." His eyes were still empty, and his face stoic, but his words helped calm her none the less.
They just had one more stop, and then they would finally be somewhere safe. Somewhere they could breathe, regroup, plan, and everything else they needed to do. Hopefully, in all honesty, Hermione wasn't sure this was her best plan yet. They could be turned away, left on the street with nothing and no one to go to. She wouldn't be able to go to Harry or the Weasley's; they wouldn't understand what she'd done. No one she'd fought within the war would understand why she resorted to dark magic for this; no one else had asked it of her. But she'd done it anyway and now was in the thick of it.
She finally steeled her shoulders, giving Sirius what she hoped would be a reassuring smile. Hermione concentrated on her magic, visualizing the home they needed to go to, and she quickly felt the familiar tug of apparition in the pit of her stomach. All at once, the two of them were being smashed and pulled through space across England, finally being dropped on the front stoop.
It was raining, and there were only a few lights on in the house which lined the darkened street. The cold rain startled Hermione, causing her to gasp as it pelted her in the face. But Sirius remained stoic, unaffected by the change in weather. Hermione finally let herself have a second to worry about him truly, about how much of him she'd really brought back.
"Where are we?"
"You won't like it," Hermione replied, finally reaching out her shaking cold hand to knock on the door in front of them.
She felt so much regret for bringing Sirius here, for everything she'd just invited into this house. Hermione was supposed to be the secret-keeper, the one to protect this place from unwanted guests. But instead, she'd become one herself, dragging alone a broken man who should've stayed dead. She had done so much more than fail; she'd betrayed herself and her promise.
Finally, the door creaked open; the dim light inside seemed blinding to Hermione in the dark street. It took her a moment for her eyes to adjust, and she was finally able to see the man in the doorway.
"Hermione?" He asked, but he quickly noticed the disheveled man beside her. He recognized Sirius, and then he locked eyes with her. His gaze was full of disbelief and fury, all directed at her. All of it warranted.
"What the fuck?" His eyes were glued to Sirius once more as if he was waiting for him to disappear in a puff of smoke. Hermione was thankful that looks couldn't kill because Sirius wouldn't be reduced to ash by the man's glare.
Sirius said nothing, only stared at Hermione in disbelief. Somehow this had been the thing to break through his stoicism and vacant eyes, but not enough to elicit any speech. Hermione couldn't blame either of them for their anger; everything she'd don't tonight had been stupid. Bringing Sirius back lent new meaning to the word ill-advised, and bringing him here was certifiably insane.
"Severus, please. Let me explain."