Chapter Three
Lily got up long before any of the rest of her family to call her sister.
"Hello?" Petunia said sleepily on the other end of the line. It was only 5:30, Lily realized. Much earlier than she usually would be up, let alone using the phone.
"Tunes, it's Lily," Lily responded.
"If I wasn't three quarters asleep, I'd say you're in a state," Petunia replied, trying to joke.
"I am in a bit of a state, now that you say it," Lily responded earnestly.
"What is it, Lils?" Petunia asked, now concerned. It took Lily the better part of a quarter of an hour to retell the story of the dinner gathering with the Grangers the previous night.
"I'm hoping you and Chris can come over later," she concluded.
"Of course we'll be there," Petunia promised.
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Breakfast that day was subdued. No one really seemed to want to talk. Oddly enough, the two members of the family who were known chatterboxes—Juliana and Sirius—were the quietest this morning. Harry was never a chatterbox like his aunt and uncle, but nor was he ever silent for as long as he was now. Finally, the clock read 6:45.
"Come on, love, time to apparate," Lily said quietly, and she and Harry gathered up his school stuff and left to apparate to the park so that Harry could go to school. After they had gone, the house became quiet and still. Juliana and Sirius were cuddling on the couch, but still neither said anything. James sat in an armchair, his vision focused intently on the fireplace, when the door opened with a bang, and James and Sirius' other best friend, Remus Lupin came striding towards them, all grins.
"Hey you lot! Got good news, me and…why all the long faces?" James grimly indicated the armchair next to him, and proceeded to tell the story.
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At school, Harry was more determined than ever to remain true to Uncle Padfoot's instructions that he try to talk to Hermione, but from the moment he stepped into the classroom, it was obvious something was off.
It wasn't out of place that Hermione would try and avoid most people, but there were a few who she seemed comfortable enough to sit by, but she never exactly hung out with anyone. Harry was one of the people who she was fairly close to and often sat beside him if there were no other quiet girls like herself to sit by. It did not go unnoticed by anyone, Harry least of all, that Hermione skirted around and avoided people with a whole new fervor, and the person she avoided most was him, to the point where Hermione actually sat down beside the boy who was her principal bully. Harry saw her face redden, but she did not move, and Harry was hurt. Though he had made up his mind that his heart belonged to Ginny Weasley, he still felt a real kinship with Hermione and wanted to help. He sighed, and sat down, trying to keep his mind on lessons.
"Hermione?" Mrs. Powell, the teacher called out, "would you like to help us with the next problem?" they were on math, which was a subject that Hermione was particularly good at, and she was Mrs. Powell's favorite student because of her eagerness to learn. So when Hermione refused to respond, Mrs. Powell also became worried, unknowingly echoing Harry's fear: what happened to her? Something is definitely out of order.
After class, the bully, Turpin, who was the least popular kid (he only got people's respect by fear) and known as Turpentine, looked over at Hermione, who he had mercifully left alone throughout class, turned to her smiling evilly.
"Hey bookwormie, want to go have fun like we did last week?" Harry doubted it would be at all 'fun' if the rumors he had heard were true. It sounded like Turpentine had taken her into the boys' bathroom and stuck her head down one of the foul toilets. It was not understood how Hermione had managed to have survived, if Turpentine had been successful at keeping her head submerged for half an hour as he had boasted to some of his so-called friends.
"Don't!" Harry and Mrs. Powell called out sharply at the same time, Harry addressing Hermione, Mrs. Powell addressing Turpin. Because she had barely whispered, neither Harry or Mrs. Powell had heard Hermione respond. But Turpin had.
"O-okay," she whispered, and he marched her forcefully out of the door, his "friends" following, laughing, Harry was pleased to note, in a very forced way.
"Mr. Turpin, get back here now!" Mrs. Powell called, but to no avail. He had already rounded the bend and probably hadn't heard her.
"Is she going to be okay?" Harry timidly asked Mrs. Powell.
"I most certainly hope so," she responded, "I will be informing the Principal about this. Harry, are you okay?" Harry was pale, and his face was definitely downcast.
"I want to be her friend," he explained, hoping his voice was steady, "she seems so nice, but so sad, and last night she came over to my place with her parents for dinner, and she did mag-something that made her dad really mad, and…"
"What happened?" Mrs. Powell asked, noticing that Harry was starting to shake.
"He h-hit her," Harry whispered horrified. Mrs. Powell let out a breath she was not aware of holding and looked vaguely at the back of the classroom.
"Harry do your parents know about this?"
"Yes. My dad and my uncle also saw it."
"Do you think they'd be okay to have me to tea?"
"I think so. My aunt's picking me up at the playground today. You could…er…come along, I guess."
"Thanks, Harry. I really need to know more."
"Y-you're welcome, Mrs. Powell."
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As Turpentine held her head in the water, all Hermione could think about was that had her father been witness to what was happening, he probably would have approved. She didn't know where the air she was breathing was coming from, as she knew as well as anyone else that humans could not breathe underwater, but she did know that her mother probably wouldn't have spared her a second thought, let alone actually worry about her.
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"Hello, Harry, love, had a good day at school?" Juliana Black asked as Harry approached her. He shook his head negatively but refused to elaborate. Instead, he introduced Mrs. Powell.
"Aunt Jules, this is my teacher," Harry said bashfully.
"Fiona Powell," Mrs. Powell said, taking over from Harry and formally introducing herself, "so you are Harry's aunt?"
"Yes," Juliana responded, "I'm Juliana Black, Harry's father's sister, and I'm married to Harry's Godfather, Sirius Black. To what do I owe the pleasure of meeting you?"
"Mrs. Black…er, Juliana…" for Juliana had flinched and her face had darkened at being addressed as 'Mrs. Black', "…I want to meet Harry's parents and discuss a…event Harry told me about that happened last night." Juliana's face darkened further and her eyes narrowed.
"This is about his friend Hermione's pathetic excuses for parents, isn't it?" she said in a low growl.
"Yes, it is, I'm afraid," Mrs. Powell responded grimly.
"Can you two give me just a moment?" Juliana asked heading for the same clump of bushes that Harry and Sirius had hidden behind the previous day to apparate. Once out of the sight of Harry's teacher, she conjured up a note from thin air and banished it to the Potter mansion. It simply read, 'Need car. Muggle visitor coming over, and we can't apparate.—Jules'
Soon, Juliana returned. Harry had climbed up the play tower and was looking through the telescope, but did not seem very interested in what he was doing. Mrs. Powell had sat down on one of the nearby benches, and also appeared to be lost in her own thoughts.
"Harry's mother will be right over to get us," Juliana declared. Both Harry and Mrs. Powell nodded, but otherwise showed no signs of recognition.
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It took Lily a bit longer to find the park as she had thought, because she had not counted on the fact that even though she was of Muggle parentage, she had been living so long as a wizard that she barely remembered how to drive, and had she been pulled over by a cop and her husband had not found a very useful little spell, her license would have shown that it had not been renewed since she had first gotten it—when she was sixteen. Nevertheless, though it took her a fair bit longer than if she had apparated, she managed to find the playground, and after Harry and Juliana had introduced Mrs. Powell, the group headed back in silence.
After a much shorter ride home, the group arrived at Potter Manor. Harry, as per custom, bounded in ahead of his mother, Juliana and Mrs. Powell, only today, he did so with much less gusto that was typical of him. When he saw his uncle Christophe, however, he momentarily forgot his troubles.
"Uncle Chris!" He said delightedly.
"Hey, Sheriff," Christophe Laney replied, "Come here." Harry darted forward and embraced his uncle.
"Hi, Aunt Tunes," Harry added, smiling at his music loving (hence her nickname) aunt. She smiled back, as Remus Lupin entered from the kitchen. His eyes scanned the group, and settled on Mrs. Powell.
"Fiona?" He said in disbelief, "you're here?"
"Remy? What in the world…?"
"This is my best friend's house," the bumbling Lupin tried to explain, "and, well, you see, I came over to…you know, tell them…"
"Tell us what, Remus?" Sirius asked from the corner where he had been morosely sitting, no longer morose.
"Oh, Merlin, I'm a dunce," Lupin muttered more to himself than the crowd, "you see, I mean, that is to say, Fiona and I met in the pub a couple weeks ago, and…"
"Let me see if I can expedite this process," Mrs. Powell said grinning, "Remy and I are dating. I confess I had no idea you all knew each other."
"It's about time, Moony!" Sirius said, laughing and patting him on the back. Lupin grinned embarrassed and turned back to Mrs. Powell.
"But what are you doing here anyway?"
"Well, there's this girl in my class that most of us in the school are very concerned about. She and Harry are in my class, and the poor thing is the principal target of the school bullies, but I'm afraid it goes farther than that. I suspect her parents, based a lot on what Harry told me after math today, but also on my observations of how she willingly allows her captors to torment her except in her eyes, are behind this, and I fear it is for worse."
"Indeed," Christophe said, "that's why we're here, too, which reminds me…as I was saying, James," he said, turning back to Harry's father, "this case, as I said, sounds like we could get Miss Hermione's parents in court on charges of abuse easily, and perhaps neglect, however all we have is very circumstantial evidence, and that alone is not enough to convince a jury. We need hard proof if we are to stand a chance of this succeeding, and as of now, I cannot think of any way to accomplish that."
"But we must!" Juliana said fiercely, standing up from the couch where she was sitting, her eyes blazing, "I will not allow Hermione to remain in those wretched people's care! Please," Juliana's tone was desperate now, "From the moment I saw that little angel, I…I get this feeling all over, like I'm the luckiest woman alive…I love her like she was my own daughter…I want her to be my daughter. So, goddammit, just tell me what I have to do!" The ferocity in Juliana's voice had returned, and she did not even seem to notice that she had sworn rather badly, language that Lily fought tooth and nail to not use around Harry.
"I agree," Sirius said in an equally determined voice, "she's like my daughter too, and I want to help her."
"I'll see what I can do," Christophe promised, "I can suggest that you may start by trying to become close to the Grangers, so that at the very least, we can have inside information…"
"Uncle Padfoot!" Harry suddenly cried out, bouncing up and down, "your disguise!"
"Of course!" Juliana said, suddenly excited, "you can observe them as a stray dog!"
"I don't know," Sirius said sadly, "I'm a bit larger than the average dog."
But from the general standpoint of everyone, it was the only plan that seemed like it would produce any results whatsoever.
"Slightly larger than the average dog, eh? Any chance I could see your…disguise?" Christophe said. Petunia chuckled.
"Chris loves dogs, we've got four at home instead of kids." Lily laughed with her sister, but James looked pensively at his brother-in-law.
"Technically, Sirius could demonstrate his ability, but by law we would have to wipe your memories afterwards, as we are not supposed to show such magic as Animagus forms in the presence of Muggles. And Mrs. Powell—"
"Call me Fiona—"
"—since you are not family, we will need your consent to have your memory modified in writing."
"—and I actually have wizard blood. I assume Remy told you…or perhaps he hasn't had the chance, now I think of it, but my maternal grandfather was a wizard, but Mum's a squib, and Pop's a Muggle, but even so I do know about Animagi."
"Okay," James said, "we can waive the memory modification on your part, Fiona."
"We might have to have you two stay the night, though," Lily added, looking at Petunia and Christophe, "one of the side effects of memory modification is that it is generally unwise to travel afterwards." After a brief demonstration of Sirius' ability to transform into a large dog, and some hemming and hawing over whether his size was abnormally large or not, and some quick on the spot research by James, Sirius' Animagus form was perfected, and the 'Hermione Safety Club' (Harry's term) went to bed, feeling that they may have finally found a start to getting the poor little girl to safety.
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The following evening found Sirius lying hidden in a hedge that encompassed the Grangers' house. It was uncomfortable, hiding down there among the prickly bushes, but Sirius felt that he should be congratulated for his masterful hiding job, as none of the Grangers had seen him yet.
In his disguise, Sirius was normally a fair bit larger than he was now, but James had found a spell that shrunk his size down to that of an average Siberian husky, according to Christophe. Juliana and Harry had had fun mussing up his fur in order to help make him look like a stray. James had also found a spell that enabled one of Sirius' eyes to act like a camera, recording everything he saw to be used as evidence. It made his eyes mismatched colors, but Christophe had assured them that this was unusual, but not unheard of, in dogs. He further assured them that the mismatched eyes would make him look even more like a stray. Suddenly, Dr. Granger's voice came through the open dining room window.
"Hermione Elizabeth!" Sirius' fur stood on end and he winced at the cold commanding voice of Hermione's father, so much like his own father's voice. Sirius moved stealthily towards the open window so he could see in.
"Yes, father?" Hermione's soft, sweet voice said, barely audible through the street noise. Sirius noted the loveless, intimidating posture of Hermione's father, making him recall his mother, who was clearly in the same mold as Hermione's father. Hermione's mother, on the other hand, was in the same mold as Sirius' father: she was completely indifferent to the treatment of her daughter. Sirius' mother had often made completely inappropriate sexual gestures, conversation and advances on him as a child, and his father had never done a thing to suggest that his mother had been wrong, or lifted a finger to comfort the young Sirius, and he wondered if the bastard Dr. Granger had done, or worse, did the same to his daughter, even to the point of…Sirius wanted to rip the man apart, as dog or as man, it didn't matter. Dr. Granger spoke again and Sirius cocked an ear to listen.
"You are never to go to that school again, lest you see the boy or any of his family—" Sirius raised his hackles, but just managed to avoid growling out loud "—again. Am I clear?"
"Yes, father,"
"I think that I must be absolutely certain." And he slapped her hard across the face and both her wrists. It was all Sirius could do to keep from howling this time.
"Now, Hermione Elizabeth, listen carefully. Tomorrow, I shall find a tutor for you. Your mother has agreed to take the day off work to keep an eye on you. I will absolutely not tolerate anything less than absolute respect for your mother, and if I find that any time you have been a burden on her, or caused unwanted attention, we shall do again tonight as we did last night. Do I make myself clear?"
"Yes, father."
"Then I will be off."
"Have a good day, darling," Mrs. Granger said, bored, turning back to her gossip rag. Sirius noted with dark amusement that where James' mother, Grace, always read the wizarding newspaper over her husband Mark's shoulder, Hermione's mother read gossip rag magazines. Sirius had, from the day he met them, considered Grace and Mark Potter his rightful parents, and they had all but adopted him, and at that moment, Sirius swore that he would do the same for Hermione, regardless of the consequences.
The day, after the initial confrontation between Hermione and her father, had been relatively uneventful. Mrs. Granger and her daughter—though Sirius felt, like his wife, that she had lost the right to call herself Hermione's mother—avoided each other's company unless Wilma Granger had chores for Hermione to do, which she did not, and Hermione ended up having a relatively calm day, away from her father and the bullies at school, who were her principal tormentors.
Even though nothing particularly noteworthy happened that day, Sirius agreed to keep a vigilante eye on the Grangers' residence, keeping an eye out for anything that they could use to bring the Grangers to court, so the following day found Sirius again impersonating a dog to hide out in the Grangers' backyard. The first thing he noted was that it seemed that Dr. Granger had finally found a "tutor" for Hermione. He was a large, beefy man with hardly any neck and a great big purple face. On closer inspection, Sirius realized who it was, and he shivered. Vernon Dursley.
Yes, the wizarding world knew who he was, as his last victim, the twelve year old girl he had raped had been the granddaughter of an elderly, estranged wizard who had cut all ties with the magical world, save a close friendship with the man who was often regarded as the most powerful wizard alive, the headmaster of Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and one James and Lily Potter called their mentor, Albus Dumbledore. After hearing the news of his granddaughter's fate from his son Stan, the girl's father, M.G. Shunpike had told Dumbledore all about Dursley, who, like the Muggle government, passed on the warning to anyone and everyone he could. Automatically, it seemed, Sirius' ears again pricked up as very soft conversation drifted through the window.
"…so do what you like with her, but remember our agreement; this is part of your community service, so I want a full report on your parole officer's desk by exactly 8:00 tomorrow. I bribed him to not have a supervisor with you on the compromise that Wilma will keep an eye on you; which she will, but we can trust her. She doesn't like the girl any more than I do."
"Uh-huh," Vernon's reply suggested that he wasn't the sharpest tool in the shed by any means whatsoever.
"And before I forget, the girl is forbidden to use the bathroom, go to the house libraries or anything like that, and make sure she never sets foot outside the house, or actually learns anything. Understand?"
"Uh-huh."
You won't have any trouble ensuring the poor thing remains ignorant, Dursley, Sirius thought angrily.
"Hermione Elizabeth! Your tutor is here. Please greet Monsieur Delcarmen; do you remember what I told you last night?"
"Yes, father," Hermione recited, sending another pang through Sirius' heart. However many times he heard her hurt, small yet still unbelievably sweet voice say those two words, it never ceased to twist his heart over and over and make his eyes prick uncomfortably. Dr. Granger slapped his daughter across her face almost as though it were a commonplace morning ritual, and, Sirius reflected sadly, it probably was, before standing up and telling the brute Dursley to immediately let him know if Hermione had done anything that he had said was forbidden of her, and walked out without another word to anyone. Sirius could not keep himself from whimpering piteously. Thank Merlin that the Grangers did not hear him, but some passersby on the sidewalk had, and had given the apparent sweet-tempered stray looks of pity.
All through the day, Sirius kept watch on Hermione, Dursley and Hermione's mother, his bewitched eye quite literally taking in all of their moves, but his mind was elsewhere. How could Dr. Granger be so cruel? And not just with Hermione. He had left without even saying goodbye to his wife, or gave any sort of recognition to her at all. When Sirius had first met Juliana Hart Potter, he had been so smitten with love that he had literally heard music in the air—he later learned that James and Remus had played an embarrassing trick at his expense—and had sworn from that moment forward that he would make sure that, were he to get Juliana Potter in his arms, there wouldn't be a day that went by when he didn't show, in some form or another, how much he loved her, and he had remained true to himself, making sure that he allowed enough time in the mornings before work for a shower, good breakfast, and to give the most important woman of his life a hug and a kiss and an "I love you so much" before leaving.
But Dr. Granger had not exhibited any of these traits. Did he love his family? Where another parent might demand that their child respect the other parent, they might do it because they couldn't understand why their child insulted their parent, and felt like maybe the other parent had been hurt by the child's words, but Dr. Granger seemed about as fond of his wife as he was of his daughter. Was he keeping them under his wing because they needed his protection, or was he trying to present himself as a normal man to society, while hiding his true abusive nature? Or was there another thing he was hiding? Nothing made any sense to Sirius, except how awful the Grangers were to their daughter and how Dr. Granger had willingly, it seemed, hired a convicted child molester to watch over the precious girl. And it was making Sirius' hair stand on end to watch what Dursley did with Hermione. Like her school bullies, he tried to drown her in the toilet, but gave up after she managed to be under for 45 minutes without going even slightly blue, beat her at random times for no reason at all and ordered her to wear clothes way too skimpy for a girl her age. Sirius' eyes were about as wide as a dog's eyes could be, but the worst was to come later.
Dursley was reading—or trying to anyway, as he was holding his book upside-down—and had forbidden Hermione to read, but had allowed her some crayons and a sheet of paper, and she had been drawing while he read. For a moment, the picture seemed almost normal, but then Hermione looked up shyly.
"Mr. Delcarmen, sir, excuse me, but I have to use the restroom," Hermione said quietly and politely—much too so in Sirius' opinion.
"Later," Dursley grunted, not taking his eyes off the book he wasn't reading. Hermione's eyes were pained, and Sirius could tell that she would not retort, regardless of how her heart felt, and it also looked like she really had to go, and had probably already held it for quite some time. She fought her urges with all her might, but it was very much a loosing battle and she lost. When she realized what had happened, Hermione couldn't stop herself from crying. She was completely and utterly ashamed, embarrassed and a tad bit angry.
"Stop it…stop crying…shut it, girl…I…will you stop…shut up!!" Vernon said through gritted teeth. Suddenly, ropes shot out of nowhere and bound Dursley up, and though Hermione's streaming eyes widened in horror, it seemed that she had been embarrassed beyond the point of caring, and ran from the house, coming to a halt on the back porch, sobbing beyond misery, sitting on a lawn chair. Sirius' heart broke, and he didn't much care now about the fact that he had sworn to remain hidden, and he slowly approached Hermione, who had her face buried in her hands. He approached her and gently nudged her with his muzzle as softly as he could manage. Startled, she looked up.
"Oh, hello, doggie," she said, her voice congested and exhausted. "You had better go before dad gets home," she continued, "he doesn't like dogs." She felt where her pants were still very wet and hiccoughed miserably. "And apparently, he doesn't like me, either." She said to renewed sobs. Sirius gave her a comforting soft, low half-bark, half-whine and licked her face, and at that gesture, all the dams Hermione had built up through eight years of living in her own hell, broke. Her sobs doubled, as did her tears. Sirius was stunned. How could a skeletally thin, malnourished eight year old have so much water in her? She would have a splitting headache when she was done.
"Why don't my parents love me, doggie?" Hermione wept, "I never did anything bad to them…I mean…I am a bad girl, very, very bad, because I can do magic, but…I hate it, every day when I went to the park after school, I…saw parents who would actually play with their kids, and be around them, and buy them ice cream. I've never had ice cream! Mum's never cuddled me or comforted me, though I've wanted both like nothing else…" she paused to take in great shuddering breaths before continuing "…and dad's never protected me or saved me from the monsters in the closet…and everyone teases me…except that boy, Harry…he was so nice to me, and his family, too…that woman, Mrs. Black…she wanted me to call her by her first name…Juliana…it's such a pretty name…I loved her so much…I think she might have liked me…but I'm a bad, horrible, terrible girl and I don't deserve it, but is it too much to ask for someone to kiss me? I've never been kissed…I don't know how it feels even…to have a loving mother…" at that point, Hermione was overcome, and couldn't say another word, consumed as she was by her tears. Sirius couldn't help it, he cried too, or more like something between a whine and a howl, and nuzzled his head against Hermione's body as both of them, overwhelmed, fell asleep.
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"GET OUT, MUTT!! GET!! G'WAN!!!" Sirius awoke to find himself looking down a double-barreled shotgun, the thumb of an irate Dr. Granger ready to cock the hammer. Rage flew through Sirius as never before, not even when he had finally run away from his own family. His eyes narrowed, his hackles raised, barring his teeth menacingly, and a growl formed in the deepest pit of his heart and escaped his mouth to frighten Goliath. He advanced on Dr. Granger, snarling and growling, gnashing his teeth to wake the dead. With satisfaction, he noted that Dr. Granger looked terrified.
"Now listen, mongrel, this gun's loaded, and I'm not afraid to use it, mark my words, I mean it!" Sirius gave two more staccato barks as menacing as he could make them, and turned tail and ran back to the bushes.
"GOOD RIDDANCE YOU FILTHY FLEABAG!!!" Dursley, who had been freed of his ropes and standing red-faced behind Dr. Granger, yelled. The latter, on the other hand, rounded on his daughter, pointing the still-loaded gun at her face.
"HERMIONE ELIZABETH, COME IN THE HOUSE THIS INSTANT!!" Thus saying, he grabbed a hold of Hermione's shirt and carried her into the house. Sirius still watched their every moved, but he was starting to wonder how much more he could take. Starting with his discovery of her pants, Dr. Granger began the worst night of beating ever.
What happened was one of those things where no one could ever describe what had happened, even eyewitness people, like Sirius. Dr. Granger started out; hitting Hermione in every place he could reach, joined by Dursley, trying to attack her where the doctor was not. Hermione's mother put every hair on Sirius' body on edge with a little pas de deux between herself and her daughter. She delicately ran her over-manicured, unusually sharp fingernails across Hermione's bruised cheeks with just enough force to make them bleed very lightly, and as they bled, kissed them in horrible mock kisses that Sirius did not need to feel to know that they were cold, unloving kisses, but Hermione, seeming to be in a state of only being about a third conscious, kissed her back, tears of gratitude streaming down her small face. The climax, however, came when the doctor carried her up to bed, Dursley trailing behind. He beat her up a bit more, getting more and more ferocious with every punch, causing wounds right down to her muscles to open up, giving the man pleasure it seemed, and then, he let Dursley belt her. He whipped her with even more ferocity than her father had ever done. By the time he was done with her, she was bleeding very badly.
"You are a very, very bad child. You must know your place in society, which is that you are unfit to live," he said to her as she lost consciousness.
It was the end for Sirius. All pretense was abandoned as he charged for the door the doctor had left open in his literally blind rage, and entered the house, ducking into the first room he saw to quietly change back into a man, and then waited quietly behind a door to the staircase for the doctor and Dursley to come down, and then quietly dashed upstairs into Hermione's room. When he saw her lying on her bed, terror such as he had never felt surged through her. To see her from a distance, one might think she was peacefully sleeping, but up close, Sirius could see that she was anything but peaceful, and for an instant, he even wondered if she was still alive. Blood was everywhere and her skin was torn in many places, exposing tissue and muscle, her eyes were open and vacant, making it difficult to ascertain whether she was conscious or not, and spittle was gently flowing from her half-open mouth, as she could not swallow.
He didn't think of it as kidnap. He didn't think of it as illegal in the Muggle world. Sirius Black didn't think at all in fact, he just scooped the tiny—for in her malnourished state, Hermione was quite small for eight—girl into his arms and ran. He didn't care how much noise he made, he didn't care if he ran out the back door, or the front, passing through the kitchen, displaying his plans for all the Grangers to see, he just ran. Ran away from the house, ran away from his hell, the hell he had grown up knowing, and so sharing with the unconscious child he held in his arms. He ran from his past, trying to take her away from hers. He ran away from his demons to protect her from hers. And he didn't stop until he was in front of Potter Manor.
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James Potter opened the door and stepped back in horror.
"Dear sweet Merlin," he whispered, eyeing Sirius standing on the doorstep, tears streaming down his face, and the nearly lifeless form he held in his arms. Remus paled.
"No…no…dear lord, it's not possible!" He muttered.
"Lord help us," Fiona Powell whispered, crying. Lily and Petunia—who, along with her husband and Fiona, had decided to remain with the Potters and Blacks to support them in any way possible as they fought for Hermione's justice—were also crying, Lily trying to shield Harry, who was shaking violently as he tried hard, but to no avail, to stop his own tears. Like Remus, Christophe was pale and remained silent, looking at his feet.
But no one was as pale as Juliana Black, as she walked up to her husband and relieved him of Hermione. She did not cry, but her eyes held a world of pain.
"I don't care if it's legal or fucking illegal in either the Muggle or wizarding worlds," she said softly to Christophe, "Hermione is my daughter, and I will not allow Hermione Shea Black to go back to those people." She hugged the girl gently, kissing her everywhere, even in places caked with dry blood.
"She won't go back," Christophe pledged in a whisper, "I don't care if I loose my job over this. Family law is a fucking joke anyhow."
"I love you, Hermione, I love you so much, and we'll get you help right away. I promise you, no one will ever hurt you again. I love you…daughter."
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AUTHOR'S NOTE: So, by all means, a nice, cheery, lighthearted chapter to give you a break from all the heavy material of previous chapters, eh:P Hey, don't kill the messenger…I can promise that this chapter ends the heaviest material of the story, and though Hermione's past will never leave her, she will be slowly recovering. So stick with me, kid(s), we'll go places!!
