The tension that had been growing through the kitchen broke when the shrieks of the portrait of Mrs Black echoed through the house. Hermione could faintly hear what sounded like two bodies crashing together and imagined that Harry and Sirius finally got to hug each other after such a long time. Mrs Weasley bustled through the door and soon she was tutting over Harry and how he was far too thin, don't worry we'll sort that out soon enough.

It was nice to have everyone at Grimmauld Place, to have Harry safe after so long. Hermione felt more at peace than she had in weeks. There would be no more secret plans to smuggle Harry from his aunt and uncle's house. The thought occurred to her that there would be no more secret meetings with Sirius to discuss how to keep Harry safe, and disappointment wasn't quite the right word for what she felt. She felt almost nostalgic about the time they had spent together.

Hermione had thought that the meetings would stop; there was no point to them anymore. Harry was safe and Sirius knew the plan for getting his name cleared. She had always just been Harry's swotty friend and an escape from the Weasleys while they were all stuck at Grimmauld. Harry could be a distraction from the Weasleys for Sirius now. She had to tell herself that she wasn't upset that they wouldn't be meeting out in the garden or the kitchen in the middle of the night anymore.

But the truth was, Sirius felt like he was the first friend she had made herself. Not because she needed rescuing from a troll in a bathroom, or because she was Ron's friend and adopted as an honourary Weasley. Sirius was someone she could talk to about anything. He understood parts of her that she would never show to Harry or Ron. The mischievous pranks that she sometimes played at Hogwarts, the rebellious bending of school rules and everyone's expectations of her.

She sometimes felt like she could be herself around him in a way that she couldn't with anyone else. With Harry and Ron she was just a swot, always buried in a book, always had the answers for their homework. The Weasleys were nice enough but she was always on the peripheral with them. Not family but not really friends with any of them except Ron. She didn't need to be swotty with Sirius, with an answer for every problem. She didn't need to be on the outskirts of being included. She was just Hermione.

It was a gift that she hadn't appreciated when she had it.

That, and the cigarettes that he gave her. She loved Harry and the Weasleys but it was stressful being in a house with that many people.

The mixed feeling of nostalgia and misery drove her to the garden a few days after Harry had got to Grimmauld. It was empty - no Sirius with a joke and a cigarette and a cheesy nickname that would pretend to hate. No taking the piss out of the twins. Just an empty garden, too dark to read in. Some fresh air would do her some good, she supposed. She didn't want fresh air, though.

She did still have the pouch of tobacco with some added extras. She had kind of stolen it from Sirius, and she had intended to share it with him but she needed a moment to chill and relax, and Sirius just happened to not be there. Hermione set to work, quietly rolling a joint and being thankful that she had picked up a lighter from the hollowed-out nook Sirius had directed her to.

It was a quiet relief when she took the first drag, her eyes sliding closed as she felt a little more relaxed, a little serene. The weed wouldn't be taking effect yet but the knowledge that it soon would be was enough to take the edge off. With her eyes closed, Hermione didn't see Sirius sneaking up behind her, ready to grab her shoulders and give her a playful shake and a scare.

What Sirius didn't expect was for Hermione to react in a blind panic and turn around to hit him straight in the face. He reeled back with his hands over his face, swearing. In response, Hermione leaned forward apologising and trying to pry his hands off his face to see the damage.

"Jesus, fuck, Hermione," Sirius moaned out. "What was that for?" He demanded.

"It was an accident, you shouldn't have been sneaking up on me!" She defended, her voice pitching higher as she defended herself.

There was no argument from Sirius - he'd been stuck in the house for months listening to the beginnings of a war starting up in dark corners and reports of missing people. She should be preparing for something that she would have to respond to violently. They'd vaguely discussed it, talking around the topic in reference to self-defence or survival tips.

He sighed. "Yeah, you're right." Sirius moved his hands away from his face, poking around his eye socket and feeling the tenderness that promised to become a bruise by morning. He plucked the joint out of Hermione's hand and argued that it was for pain relief when she whined at him.

The pair settled down and Sirius admitted that she was right and he shouldn't be sneaking up on her. There was a quiet moment as Hermione held her hand out and Sirius leaned away.

"It's my bloody weed and I've barely had three drags off it!" He complained. Hermione pouted but then rummaged in her back pocket, producing the pouch again.

There was enough for another joint or two in there, so she rolled one for herself, jokingly telling Sirius that she wasn't sharing this one. They sat in silence until both joints had been smoked.

"Best to get back inside, kitten. You'll have a long day tomorrow and I think Harry's in a mood with you and Ron." Sirius spoke quietly enough not to disturb the calm that they'd achieved.

Hermione stood up, wincing as her knees cracked and looked down at Sirius, shaking her head. "Kitchen first, I think. You coming?" It was a good thing that Mrs Weasley cooked and baked when she was stressed and had managed to make so much that even the Weasleys, try as they might, weren't able to finish the feast she'd whisked up.

Sirius gave a wolf-like grin as he nodded, gesturing for her to go first. The kitchen light was on when they arrived, which wasn't a surprise. There were too many people in the house to keep track of who went where and when and Hermione presumed that it would be one of the twins up to no good in the middle of the night. They weren't worried about being seen by them because their secret was already out to the twins.

The worst the twins would do was wiggle their eyebrows and make a faux scandalised comment about being out past curfew.

In their stoned state, the two had forgotten that it wasn't only those living in the house that might be present there outside of Order meetings. Members of the Order tended to pop in and out randomly but generally not so late. They also hadn't heard the faint rumblings of a conversation in the kitchen.

Hermione stopped dead at the door of the kitchen, Sirius stumbling into her and sending her past the doorway and into the kitchen. His grumbles about why she had stopped met a quick end when he looked up at saw just who was in his kitchen.

Remus was sat at the table, his back facing the doorway, a mug of tea loosely held in his hands. That wasn't what had horrified Hermione and Sirius. It was his conversation partner that had stopped the both of them in their tracks. The conversation had been cut off when the pair were glimpsed by Snape, causing Remus to turn and see them.

He sniffed once and gave the two of them a disapproving stare. He caught on to the looks on their faces and seemed to remember that he was not alone in the kitchen, and certainly not the only one who could smell the weed on them. The three of them turned to face Snape.

Snape was generally quite good at masking emotions, with the exception of the anger, frustration and disappointment in his students when they failed to make a potion correctly, so it was no surprise that for a moment his expression was blank as he stared at Hermione.

"Now you've done it, Sirius," Remus commented lowly.