Now that she'd been put on administrative leave, Severus' house brimmed with tension and activity. There was nowhere any of them could go to escape it either. Hermione was so worried about further raids and questioning from the Aurors had her on high alert, she was so anxious she'd taken to sleeping on the couch every night. Her back was protesting, and Severus seemed more and more annoyed with each passing day.

"Granger," Severus' cold voice made her jump awake, her back aching against the uncomfortable couch she'd fallen asleep on the night before.

"Hu- Yes?" It took her a minute to blink away her grogginess and give him her full attention.

"I did not allow you access to my home so that you and Black could lounge around day in and day out."

"I know-"

"Then, go do something." And with that, he was gone again, disappearing off to the basement where he spent his days brewing potions.

He wasn't wrong, and Hermione knew that. She'd been avoiding everything here in Cokeworth, pretending that nothing was wrong. It wasn't going to work anymore; everything was wrong, and she needed to find a way to handle it and soon. It was just so hard for her even to plan how she was going to outwit the Ministry. Her whole world had ended at once, and she wasn't sure how she was supposed to function anymore; she just felt so numb inside.

Hermione tried to start small; she knew baby steps would help her find her way out of this funk. She got out of her pajamas and into something semi-presentable and slipped out the front door. It was still morning, and there had been heavy rains the night before. The cobblestone streets were slick, and the air was cold and moist. Hermione buried her hands in her pockets as she walked, trying to enjoy the feeling of the sun on her face as she made her way towards the outskirts of town. She hadn't venture past the house's small back garden for a few days now, and it never got any sun. It was like she'd forgotten how good it felt; it brought a smile to her face as she walked.

She'd decided to return to her apartment and see if she had any mail, a simple errand. And the nice walk that was involved was definitely helping to lift her spirits a bit. Even if everything was falling apart, she could at least smile in the sun today.

Cokeworth isn't large, and so her walk didn't take her long. She was soon legging it into the woods, far enough into the trees that no one would see her apparate. Hermione wasn't sure if there were other witches and wizards in the town, but she had to assume that there were. There was a small clearing just far enough into the woods; inside was a simple bench that was surrounded by rose bushes. It was a simple space, but one that seemed carved out for magical folk to use. She sat for a moment on the bench, just breathing in the perfume of the rose bushes. Hermione realized that without simple moments such as these, she'd drowned before the race had even begun.

When she finally felt ready to head to her apartment, she apparated to her front door.

Hermione's fight or flight instincts kicked in immediately, her door was cracked out, and voices were coming from inside. Were they here to arrest her? But she quickly recognized the voices inside; it was Harry and Ron. The door creaked as she pushed it open; their eyes turned to her from where they were standing in her living room.

"You broke into my house?"

They said nothing, just traded guarded glances with one another before turning to stare at her again.

"Where were you?" It was Ron who spoke; he seemed annoyed that she was asking them questions.

"You're the ones who broke into my house." She was annoyed now too, "Why don't you explain yourselves."

"You're the one being investigated by the Ministry for dark magic." Ron's face was red as he stared down at her.

"We're worried about you, Hermione." Harry's voice was quiet; she almost missed what he said.

"Thank you for being worried." Hermione didn't want to hurt their feelings, but she did want them to back off, "But there's nothing to be worried about. It's a misunderstanding that I'm sure will be cleared up soon."

"Mione, don't give me that bullshit!" Ron was yelling, his barely concealed rage now on full display. She knew he had a right to be mad, but she had no way of being honest with either of them. Not anymore.

As much as Hermione hated to admit it, if either of them found out what she'd done, things would end badly. It might not happen at first; everyone would be so happy that Sirius was back. But her violation of their morals, Harry's morals, would soon become a burden too big to bear. The weight of tension would grow inside them until it finally blew; it would be better if she handled this alone. At least then, they would have the option of ignoring the sinking feeling in their gut that something was off; at least then they could focus on Sirius being back and not how they feel about how it was done. Maybe she was selfish or deluded, but she knew deep down they wouldn't understand her actions, regardless of why she did them.

"Ron, you came to my house! If you don't want to believe me, then you don't have to."

"No!" He continued to yell at her now, "What is going on?"

"Ron-"

"You're not the same person you used to be." Harry's voice was low, and it seemed much more dangerous than Ron's yelling.

"Yes I-"

Ron said nothing; he only stomped past her and out her front door. She and Harry just stared at each other, listening to the sound of Ron's receding footsteps.

Today was the next domino, the other shoe; it was what she'd been dreading. Hermione knew that this case would begin to affect things; she'd just been in denial. She never wanted to push Harry and Ron away, but it felt like her hands were tied.

"I don't know what you did-"

"Harry-"

"All I know is that if you're guilty, you should turn yourself in." His eyes were cold now, and they reminded her of Sirius a bit.

The way he spoke, he seemed so far away. Hermione wasn't even sure if he believed her or if he'd already decided she was guilty. It made her feel so alone. She'd expected Ron to be angry, not to understand her choices. But part of her had thought that maybe Harry would understand, that perhaps he would be the one to extend an olive branch. That perhaps he could look past her mistakes, but she wasn't so sure anymore. He wasn't the same idealistic teenage wizard she'd always known; he was an Auror now. And he takes his job seriously, so seriously that Hermione wasn't sure he'd ever been able to move past her actions.

"I didn't do anything-"

"I wish I believed you." He walked towards the door, following Ron's trail, "I hope you do the right thing."

Then, he was gone.

Hermione sank to the floor, leaning against her couch and sobbed for hours.

They'd been her brothers once, but since the end of the war, things had been different. She should've known things would change; everyone grows apart as they grow up. But she hadn't expected it; she thought their friendship would be protected. As if it were a bubble that they would always be able to run home too, a safe place for all of them for always.

But they'd grown apart, pursued their paths, and now everything was so different. It had been different for a while, though she hadn't realized it till now.

Hermione watched the light darken in her windows, knowing that hours were ticking by, and she'd have to get up eventually. But she couldn't stop thinking about the night before the Quidditch World Cup before their 4th year. She just remembered how close they all seemed; it felt like they'd always be able to meet up at the Burrow. That it would still be their home, even those who weren't Weasley's, but she realized her mistake. Times had changed, and so had all of them; they had grown in different directions. The reality of having to face the future alone was terrifying, but Hermione had no other choice.

It was late afternoon when she finally pulled herself from the floor; she grabbed some books though she didn't look at the titles. She just wanted a reason for taking so long on her morning walk. She knew that Severus and Sirius would be able to tell that something happened. Hermione couldn't put it off any longer, so she packed up her books, apparated back to the wooded clearing.

The sun was shining through the trees; birds were singing in the branches. But Hermione couldn't muster a smile; it was just too bitter on her lips. She'd lost the last of her family today, and the sinking feeling in her stomach made her want to vomit.

The fresh air brought fresh tears to the surface, and she furiously wiped them away as she walked. Children were playing in the streets; their shouts echoed off the brick buildings and cobblestone streets. It only served to remind her more about what had happened; by the time she walked through the front door, she was crying even harder.

She dropped her bag at the foot of the couch before curling into the blanket she'd used the previous night. Hermione cried silently till she slept, and she promised herself that she'd start fixing everything when she woke up.