Before she learned the technique herself, Hermione had heard Apparating described as "feeling as though your insides are being forcibly pulled through your belly button." This knowledge had been more than a little daunting for the young witch as she began her studies in the art of teleporting oneself through space, but Gryffindor courage had never been in short supply for the Brightest Witch of Her Age. Eventually she discovered Apparition to be no more uncomfortable than flying coach on a Muggle airplane and it took literally a fraction of the time.

This sensation, however, was very much different than Apparition.

It seemed as if someone was very meticulously and with great attention to detail, pulling Hermione's skin away from her muscles while simultaneously stirring her brain with a sharp edged whisk. The pain was excruciating, but also somehow, bizarre; it was like no pain Hermione had ever experienced. She knew she was in agony, the sensation was dazzling in the most horrific sort of way, but she also felt removed from it, like she was remembering a vicious dream from the night before. In a strange, but welcome, twist, Hermione was less aware of the pain ripping through her body and more conscious of the Nothingness around her. All things hadn't stopped, they had simply ceased to be. The room, the Ministry, the floor, the wall; all were Nothing.

And, for the most minuscule of eternities, Hermione joined the Nothing.

Consciousnesses came on like the slow trickle of a leaky faucet; one small droplet at a time. It began in the tiny movement of her fingers, instinctively clutching at her wand, and gradually moved through her limbs, snaking its way through her torso and up her neck. At first Hermione was aware of the slow rise and fall of her chest, the methodical beating of her heart, and then the cold floor under her back. Beneath their lids her eyes began to move rapidly and briefly the witch wasn't sure if her eyes were closed or if she was surrounded by blackness. With a panicked gasp, Hermione shot up, amber eyes tearing open frantically.

But all remained dark.

"Lumos!" She whispered breathlessly and slumped in relief when light burst from the tip of her wand. Apprehensively Hermione took in her surroundings.

She was obviously in a Ministry room, she'd know these biege -really, who ever thought this was a calming color?- walls anywhere. The room was quiet and unassuming, there were miscellaneous desks and chairs stacked in one corner, and a fine layer of dust covering the floor. Hermione's eyes found the door and she quickly scrambled to get up, immediately regretting that choice as her stiff muscles refused to move properly.

Godric, how long was I on the floor? How the hell did I even get- ah fuck.

Remembrance dawned on Hermione with a haste that startled the witch to her feet despite the ache in her muscles. The whole miserable sodding day came back to her with nauseating force and she groaned in embarrassment. An array of emotions washed across her dark features; anger at the realization of Ron's proposal, embarrassment that his thoughtless comment had brought on a panic attack, guilt that her loss of control had resulted in her assaulting her friends and Malfoy. The last thing Hermione remembered was running into an empty room, locking the door, and then suddenly she was waking up on the ground.

Fuck, did I pass out?

Hermione had never fainted from a flashback before, but she'd never attacked anyone during one either. She supposed the possibility existed, as clearly that's what happened, but the novelty of the experience concerned her. What was going on? This had been a whole day of unprecedented reactions and her friends had suffered for it. Hermione cringed, remembering she had cast hexes at Harry and Seamus; Ron she wasn't too concerned about -prat deserved it anyway- but Harry, Harry she felt true guilt over.

Meeting Harry on the Hogwarts Express when they were both eleven, as she helped Neville search for his lost toad, had not been a momentous occasion. No giant neon sign had begun flashing, there were no fireworks exploding above the black haired boy's head while spelling out the words "BEST FRIEND HERE." Actually, it hadn't been until third year, when Hermione had thrown herself in front of Harry, terrified that Sirius Black had come to kill him, that the witch had realized just how deep her devotion ran. Harry was more than a best friend, more than a brother; he was a part of Hermione's soul, and he had suffered such hurt in his life that it made her sick with shame that she had not recognized him during her flashback. No one had been there for her like Harry had.

The evening Ron had ended things with her, Hermione had not Floo'ed back to her own flat, instead she'd leapt into the fireplace and gone straight to 12 Grimmauld Place, falling into Harry and Ginny's arms. The couple was engaged, but not yet married, and Ginny had moved in earlier that year, becoming a second, albeit distant second, to Harry in Hermione's affections. Her friends had sat her down at the table, made her tea, and listened to her cry. Ginny's face had turned the same deep auburn as her hair in anger as Hermione had recounted Ron's words.

"My sodding brother, I'll hex his bollocks clean off! I'll bat-bogey him from here straight to eternity!" The raging witch had yelled, waving her wand wildly. "Mom's going to kill him when she finds out."

"Hermione had supposed she should have been grateful that the Weasley daughter had taken her side over Ron's, but at the time she really hadn't cared, she'd just wanted to drink tea and curl up into herself.

"Ginny, c'mon and sit back down, you can run off to hex Ron later." Hermione remembered Harry had almost chuckled at his fiancee's raving, but they both knew laughing at an enraged Weasley was never a wise move; despite how hilariously red they all turned.

They're probably so worried, I bet Harry went right to my flat looking for me. Gods, what time is it even?

Hermione looked down at the watch on her left wrist, a classy gold Muggle thing with a leather band her mother had given her last Christmas, and raised a curious eyebrow. The watch's hands were unmoving, all three stopped precisely on the seven, even the second hand was still. It must have run out of batteries, but at 7:35 exactly? That didn't make sense. The Auror meeting had begun promptly at 9:00am and gone until nearly noon, surely she couldn't have been laying in this room for over seven hours.

Hermione opened the door and cautiously peered into the hallway.

Crapity crap crap.

The lights were off in the whole building. They don't turn off the lights until well after 10:00pm, once everyone has gone home. Hermione must've been out for ten hours. The witch rubbed her forehead and groaned, a headache spreading just behind her eyes.

They must be so worried about me. Good job, Granger. Interrupt a meeting, hex your best friend, and then pass out in an abandoned Ministry room. Harry and Ginny must be worried sick and Crooks is probably pissed that he didn't get dinner.

She considered heading home, but she knew that was going to have to wait, she needed to go to Grimmauld Place and face Harry. Her best friend deserved to know she was okay and that she was sorry for causing such a scene. She was probably going to have to explain her new ventus spell too, which would raise further questions, and then she'd have to explain all the charms she'd been working on by herself. Bollocks.

With heavy feet Hermione headed through the dark hall to the Floos, wand illuminating the way. The Ministry was completely still and it sent a chill down Hermione's spine; the last time she'd seen this place so deserted was when they'd broken in fifth year, thinking Sirius was being tortured. Since that night, when she had been cursed by Dolohov in the Time-Chamber, the curly haired witch had made it a point to avoid the Ministry after hours; she hated being reminded of that night Sirius had died and taken their innocence with him.

Hermione would never forget the look of wretched pain that had marred Harry's face as he watched his godfather fall away from him. The witch shook her head in an attempt to dispel the memory.

Well, today has just been a bundle of bloody joy then, hasn't it?

When finally Hermione arrived at the Auror Department's Floo she hesitated before it, biting the inside of her cheek. A strange feeling tugged at the back of her neck. Did it seem different? The brick around the fireplace was the same faded red, the mantle above the mouth of the Floo still held the same assorted knickknacks that Department Head Savage seemed to find so endearing. No, everything was the same, the dim light was just morphing the shadows of the place into something unfamiliar.

Pull it together, Granger, you're dawdling. Steel yourself.

With a shaky hand, Hermione grabbed some powder from the bag hanging on a peg by the mantle and with a sigh, threw the powder into the fireplace. She stepped into the green flames, whispering "Grimmauld Place" and disappeared.

The brief trip was more disconcerting than usual, probably because Hermione's body was still a bit off after her ten hour nap on the Ministry floor. She stepped through the fireplace at Grimmauld Place coughing and moaning as her headache intensified.

"Harry!" Hermione called out, waving her hand in front of her face to shoo away the last vestiges of the Floo powder from the air. "Ginny!"

When no one came running, Hermione cocked her head listening. Silence.

I hope they're not out looking for me, gods, this can't be happening.

"Harry! Gin!?" Hermione kept calling out, walking from the parlor into the front hallway. Guilt was rising in her stomach, threatening to work its way through her throat as acidic bile. "HAAAAAARRY!"

The silence continued; obviously no one was home. Her friends often joked that Hermione had learned her shrill yell from Molly Weasley herself and could be heard throughout England and, perhaps, even Ireland. If anyone had been home, they would have heard her.

Realizing she was still holding her wand, Hermione returned it to the holster around her thigh and sighed. Her friends, if they were searching for her, could be anywhere, in London or beyond; her best bet was just to await their return. Making her way to the kitchen, Hermione determined to start a pot of tea, Earl Grey always seemed to ease her troubled heart. She opened the cupboard Harry kept his tea in, but was surprised to find it filled with plates instead.

Odd, he must've re-organized.

No, that wasn't like Harry, that man never changed anything. He still owned the same round glasses that he'd been wearing since the day Hermione had first met him. Maybe Ginny had moved things around? After opening a few more cupboards and coming up tea-less Hermione finally accio'd the tea and was surprised to see it fly out of a cupboard on the other side of the kitchen.

With a shrug, the witch waved her wand and started the kettle on the stove heating. She had to accio the tea cups as well and determined that once everyone was done scolding her for making them worry, she'd have a talk with Ginny about the proper way to organize a kitchen.

Soon Hermione found herself seated at the kitchen table, sighing with pleasure as the first sips of tea slipped past her lips. For the first time all day, she could feel the knots of tension in her shoulders untie themselves and the iron vice that had been wrapped around her stomach loosen. Hermione had just begun her second cup when she heard the Floo flame to life and a hushed voice in the next room. Taking a deep breath to steady herself, Hermione rose from her chair.

"Harry, Ginny!" She began, rushing into the other room. "Gods, I'm so-"

But the brown haired witch stopped dead in her tracks as she stepped into the parlor and found herself staring into, not the emerald or chocolate eyes she had expected, but instead, wide grey orbs. Her breath hitched in her throat and her heart slammed against her rib cage, attempting to escape from her chest.

Hermione brought a dark hand to her mouth with a silent gasp and then whispered, taking a step toward the black haired man before her.

"S-Sirius?"

"Petrificus Totalus!"

Shite.

oOo

A/N: Oh my gosh, 20 followers?! Ah! I can't believe that! You guys warm my cold, dark soul haha. And reviews as well! I can't believe it! Thank you I-was-BOTWP, MoonKishi, CherrySin, tomfleton, and BeautyBrains for your kind words! I can't tell you how much it means to me that you're even reading my silly little fic, let alone taking the time to review it. Thank you!