Author's Note: Thanks bunches for reading, and thanks bigger bunches to everyone who reviewed. It has been brought to my attention by one of my wonderful reviewers (yes, you're all wonderful!), that this story could be considered 'just another post-war fanfic'. I do appreciate your input, and I answer: well, maybe it is, but I really wanted to write it anyway. I do intend to add some twists and cul-de-sacs – which I will not tell you about, 'cause a twist is really only a twist if you don't see it coming – and ask that you please stay tuned. In any event, as long as people are enjoying the story, that's all that matters :)

Disclaimer: Please refer to the prologue, so you don't think I'm stealing things.

War Stories

Chapter 4 Absent Friends

It was well into the night by the time the retelling had finally reached the point of Dumbledore's death. Sirius had been shocked, to put it mildly. He, like everyone else, had always worked under the unspoken assumption that Albus Dumbledore, Order of Merlin, First Class, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, member of the International Confederation of Wizards, and Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, simply could not be killed.

"But…he's the only one Voldermort" (with a sort of distant surprise, Sirius noted that nobody in the room flinched at the name) "ever feared! How…how…?" He seemed not to know the words to express the question. Or maybe he didn't even know what he was trying to ask.

"He was also a very old man," his godson said quietly. It had taken a long time for Harry to come to terms, not just with the fact of Dumbledore's murder, but also with the very idea that such a great and powerful wizard could die. He understood Sirius' inability to process this information, and tried to explain the conclusion that it had taken Harry himself years to fully accept. "An old man, who had been terribly weakened, and not just by what happened in the cave. He was strong, and wise, and brilliant, and good, but he was still only human."

Sirius listened as Harry calmly spoke words wise beyond his years, even taking into account the five years he'd been gone. In that moment, Harry reminded Sirius so forcibly of the old wizard they were discussing, that it almost brought tears to his eyes.

"He was just a person, who had lived far longer than many people do, especially in wartime," Harry concluded. For some reason, the gaze of most of the room turned to Hermione at that.

Hermione had tried valiantly to stay awake as the story was told, but the strain of the magic she had used to bring Sirius back had taken its toll, and she had drifted off only an hour or two after they had begun. She was now deeply asleep, lying curled on the other end of the couch where Harry sat.

She wasn't the only one sleeping. Pregnancy was a tiring business and Tonks had joined Hermione in dreamland some time around midnight. Though she, physically incapable of curling up this far along, lay sprawled on her side with a cushion supporting her belly and her feet in Remus' lap. This position had been a conscious decision on her part as, about an hour after Hermione fell asleep, she had kicked off her shoes, swung her legs up so her feet rested on the werewolf's knees, and wiggled her toes pointedly at him. This seemed to be a long standing arrangement, since Remus, without further prompting, absentmindedly began rubbing them.

The room was also more crowded now than it had been to begin with. Dobby and Winky had appeared a short time before Hermione had fallen asleep, and had contributed a little to the story, but left at around nine o'clock, promising to ready the room Sirius had chosen, before they went to bed themselves. Luna, Ginny and Neville had arrived home at various times during the evening. Each had greeted Sirius warmly, once they had recovered from their surprise, and had been given a very brief explanation for the exonerated convict's presence. Neville had taken an armchair beside Ron, Ginny had seated herself in another armchair near Sirius, and Luna was sitting cross-legged on a cushion at Ron's feet, leaning back against his legs, while his fingers ran slowly through her hair.

Everyone listened quietly as Harry went on to describe his own actions immediately after the Headmaster's death. A few of the others then added their own perspective of events during that terrible night, and Harry finished with an account of Dumbledore's funeral.

When Harry fell silent at last, the sombre mood remained. Sirius was still struggling to absorb everything he had heard, while the others sat lost in their own memories and thoughts. It was Harry who finally brought everyone back to earth by rising to his feet.

"Well, it's…" he glanced at the clock on the mantle "…three-thirty in the morning, and some of us have had a longer day than others," he looked pointedly at Hermione's still sleeping form. "I think this is a good hold point, Sirius. You've been given more than enough information to digest for one day. We'll pick this up again tomorrow, when you're ready, alright?" Harry suggested.

"Yeah," Sirius answered, sounding tired. "I feel like I haven't slept in years."

The joke was weak, but they all laughed quietly, grateful for the break in the tension.

"I'll take Hermione upstairs," Harry volunteered, stooping over his sleeping friend and scooping her off the couch. She stirred just enough to settle herself more comfortably in his arms, but didn't open her eyes.

Harry then turned to Remus, who was gently lifting Tonks' feet off of his lap. "Do you two want to stay here tonight? You know the guest room is always ready for you."

"Thanks, I'd like that. She's impossible to wake until she's good and ready, and I don't want to risk side-along apperation this close to the due date." Remus went to scoop Tonks up as Harry had done Hermione, but stopped and looked around at the others. "Don't tell her; it might hurt her feelings," he said, then took out his wand and performed a feather-light charm on the sleeping woman, before lifting her off the couch. Sirius sniggered, earning himself a scowl from his old friend.

Ron hastily turned his laugh into a cough as he helped Luna up from her cushion, before dragging is own lanky frame out of his armchair. Neville and Ginny were already standing by the door.

The group made its way quietly up the stairs. Remus nodded to the others, then carried Tonks down a separate corridor towards the guest bedrooms. With waves and murmured goodnights, Ginny and Neville disappeared into their own rooms.

"It really is great to have you back, Sirius," Ron said, while Luna just smiled her dreamy smile. They went to their room, too.

Harry had stopped outside Hermione's door and Sirius came to stand in front of him. Neither man said anything. Sirius put his hand on Harry's shoulder (the one Hermione's head wasn't resting on) and squeezed it, trying to convey his love, gratitude, regret, and all his other, less easily identified emotions, through the gesture. Harry smiled slightly in understanding; sometimes words weren't needed.

Sirius returned the smile, removed his hand and used it to open Hermione's door, before turning and walking away up the corridor towards his new room.

Harry continued to smile at his godfather's retreating back for a moment, then carefully manoeuvred through the open door. He made his way to the bed and gently placed his friend on it, then reached for the blanket that was folded neatly at her feet. He shook it out and glanced up at Hermione's face. Her eyes were open and her gaze was wandering lazily around the room, until it finally landed on him. She smiled.

"Hey."

Harry smiled back as he spread the blanket over her and sat beside her on the edge of the bed. "Hey, you ok?" he asked.

"Yeah," she answered sleepily. "I'm sorry, Harry. I tried to stay awake, I really did. Is Sirius alright?"

Harry nodded. "He's a bit overwhelmed just now, but he'll be fine." He took her hand and chafed it gently between his own. Frowning down at what he was doing, he said thickly, "Listen Hermione, I wanted to thank you. I can't tell you what it means to me, to have him here and safe. I -" He broke off, no longer able to speak past the lump in has throat.

Hermione, pulling her hand out of his grasp, sat up and wrapped her arms around him. They held each other silently for a long moment, before she spoke.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you what I was doing. I was just afraid to get your hopes up only to find that I couldn't do it."

Harry pulled away and shook his head, his eyes still overly bright. "It's ok, Hermione. This is the best thing you could have done for me." He suddenly got a mischievous glint in his eyes. "It even makes up for you being MIA on my birthday."

Hermione gasped. "Oh Harry, I'm so sorry! I completely lost track of time…er, I mean, I was hoping to be back before…but I got you a present before I left, I just have to…" She trailed off at the sound of Harry sniggering. Her eyes narrowed. "Harry James Potter, if I wasn't so tired and under Healer's orders not to, I'd hex you into next week!"

His snigger turned into a laugh as she playfully hit him with a pillow.

"G'night, Hermione," Harry smiled and stood.

"Night, Harry," Hermione answered, laying down again and smiling back.

He went to walk away to his own room, but turned back towards the bed at the sound of her voice.

"Oh, and Harry." She waited until his eyebrows rose questioningly, before she smiled again. "Happy Birthday." She winked at him, before both of her eyes drifted closed.

Harry watched her fall asleep, then left the room, closing the door quietly behind him. He stood in the darkened corridor, with one hand resting on the wood of the door, his head bowed slightly and his eyes closed. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly as a smile grew across his face. He felt his shoulders sag in relief; the kind of relief he hadn't felt since just after Tom Riddle had been destroyed. Sirius was home, Hermione was home, and Harry felt that his family was a little more complete.

Sirius could not remember when he had ever been this tired. Even after he had escaped from Azkaban he had had his determination to find Harry and Peter to fuel him. Now he was just exhausted, but still could not sleep.

Everything Harry and the others had told him kept going over and over in his mind: how Kreacher had been the one carrying information to the Malfoys; how the prophesy that Voldermort was after indicated that Harry was the one with the power to end the war, that Harry would kill, or be killed by the Dark Lord; how Draco had spent all of his sixth year at Hogwarts plotting the Headmaster's murder; how Snape had been the one to kill Dumbledore when Draco could not.

Sirius lay on his back in the bed, staring up at the ceiling. He couldn't believe how much he'd missed, and they were only a year into the story! He sighed and rubbed his face with his hands, trying to clear his mind so that he could sleep. Clearing his mind didn't work, but exhaustion finally did the job for him and he drifted asleep just as the sun began to light the horizon.

A/N: This chapter was originally different. I changed it because I wanted to include more of Sirius' reaction to hearing that Dumbledore had died. I had also intended to start telling what happened after that during this chapter, but this seemed to come to a natural close before I got there. I promise to deliver original – or as original as anything that I can write - wartime happenings in the next instalment.

So, what think you?