A/N: Sorry about the wait, just starting university and finding my feet. I hope you like this chapter and continue reading! Thanks to my beta, MissBubbles, and those who reviewed the last chapter. Please review again, I always appreciate knowing that people are reading and enjoying my work.
Summary: Lost and sick in the middle of nowhere, Sirius falls into the hands of a woman whose secrets will tie inextricably into the fate of his godson. What will happen when he finds himself attracted to this strange witch?
The Complexities of the Heart
By katemary77
Chapter Nine
'Tis
not too late to seek a newer world.
Push off, and sitting well in
order smite
The sounding furrows; for my purpose holds
To sail
beyond the sunset, and the baths
Of all the western stars, until I
die…
Made weak by time and fate, but strong in will
To
strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield.
- Alfred Lord Tennyson, Ulysses
Hermione sat comfortably in a large armchair in the sitting room, idly twisting a curl around her finger as she watched Ron and Ginny go through the motions of a brutal game of wizard's chess. Her mind was elsewhere, however, struggling to piece together what seemed to her an obstinately difficult puzzle. Hermione felt that she had all the parts, only she couldn't see the bigger picture.
The days had passed relatively slowly and Professor Snape had not returned since his last, hurried departure. Grimmauld Place had, if possible, become even grimmer overnight since the evening that Snape had agreed to take Hermione as an assistant on their return to Hogwarts. Anna was clearly upset by his absence; she still refused to speak to Sirius, rarely conversed with anyone else and when she came into any room seemed to emanate such melancholy that the entire household had sunk into a silent depression.
Hermione was interrupted from her musings by Ron, who had let out a great sigh and sunk into his chair.
"I'm so bored!" he groaned. "Merlin, this place is…" He struggled to find a word.
"Stifling?" Hermione offered. "I know. I wish we could go out."
"Why don't we?" Ginny asked. "I'm sure Mum won't mind taking us to Diagon Alley for the afternoon."
Hermione sat up. "You think? It's not too dangerous?"
"Let's find out."
------------------
Anna set her mug in the sink and turned to Sirius who was munching on an apple at the table.
"Where're the kids?"
Sirius looked up and swallowed. It was the first thing she had said to him in days, despite his fervent apologies.
"Molly took them to Diagon Alley, they were getting restless," he answered. "This place has been pretty depressing lately."
"Yeah, sorry about that," Anna grimaced.
"Why would you need to be sorry?" he asked. "Listen, Annie – "
"Don't," she interrupted, holding a hand to quell his words, "I'm just – just don't yet, okay Sirius?"
He nodded, ashamed; "Okay."
She smiled weakly and left the room.
Sirius cursed to himself and stared down at the table. Why did he have to be such a hot-headed idiot sometimes? The wood had no answers to give.
------------------
"Professor Snape will be here soon."
Anna sat up straight and put her book down beside her.
"Severus is coming?"
Remus nodded.
"The Full Moon is in a few days," he told her, "Snape is coming to give me a supply of Wolfsbane Potion."
"When will he get here?" Anna asked urgently. She was desperate to repair the damage she had caused the last time she had seen the dour Potions Master.
"Any minute now."
Indeed, only a moment later Severus Snape stalked swiftly into the room, freezing when he caught sight of Anna.
"Professor Snape," Remus greeted, walking forward to take the large vial of Wolfsbane from him. "Thank you very much."
"Of course," Snape replied, not taking his eyes off Anna.
Anna stood. He was still angry; she could read it in every line of his face, despite how he tried to keep her out.
"Severus, I'm sorry." His face remained impassive. He knew, of course, that his lack of reaction would make her flustered. "Please, you know how I am… trust everyone without a second thought of what the consequences will be." She wrung her hands in front of her. "I shouldn't have said that to him. It was wrong, I know that, and I'm so sorry. Please?" Annoyingly, Anna felt tears of frustration rise to her eyes. "Please don't be mad at me, not now."
He caved. Anna could see him cracking and crumbling and then in three long strides he was at her side and tucking her head under his chin. She held him tightly, aware that it took him a lot to be so outwardly affectionate with her; he very seldom was.
"I should go," he said and she stepped back from him accordingly.
"Thank you," she mumbled, dashing at her cheeks.
He didn't say anything else, just strode from the room. Anna knew everything was back to normal.
------------------
"Many witches and wizards are particularly gifted in a certain area of magic; for example those who are adept enough in the art of potions to become Masters or those skilled sufficiently in Transfiguration to become Animagi. Sometimes, however, magical prowess comes in another form that one is born to, for example Elemental mages, Seers or Metamorphmagi…"
Hermione sighed and placed the book she had bought from Diagon Alley – Magical People: A Guide – on the bedcovers beside her. Pushing her hands through her hair, she grimaced; there was nothing Hermione Granger hated more than a problem she couldn't solve. And the solution to this, she knew, was at the tip of her fingers, waiting to be discovered.
It nearly drove her mad.
Soon, though, her mind became clouded with sleep and she yielded to the soft blankets, fragments and images of a future she feared taking over her dreams.
------------------
A woman writhed on the ground, her long, dark hair covering her face. A man stood above her, wand pointed, laughing as the woman's body contorted in pain. Hermione raised her wand and a curse left her lips. As the man tumbled to the ground, the woman let out a great breath and pushed her hair from her face. Hermione recognised her instantly.
"Anna! Are you alright?"
She sat up, body shaking.
"I'm fine."
She was pale, though, and her eyes were wrought with sorrow. "The trick is to never scream, Hermione, never let them hear you scream." She shuddered and wiped blood from her cut li,. "It only makes them hurt you more."
There was a bright flash and Hermione was confronted with deep, scarlet eyes. She had never seen this man before, but Hermione knew his face; he haunted her nightly.
Hermione was pushed back, warm, soothing hands holding hers.
"Don't touch her," Anna, standing in front of Hermione, growled fiercely. "You can do anything you want to me, Lucius, but if you touch her I will kill you."
"Very well," a cold voice sneered.
Another bright flash and Hermione found herself stumbling over pale masks and bleeding, broken bodies. She cried out, harsh and guttural, as the mutilated limbs began to take familiar forms in front of her eyes. There was Ginny, red hair splayed and vivid as the blood that seeped from her stomach, and Ron beside her, his arm flung over his sister's chest in a last act of brotherly protection. Harry was there, glasses skewed and emerald eyes empty. Further on was Anna (but how did she get here so quickly?) and Sirius, curled together in death. And there was Neville, Professor Dumbledore, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Remus, Tonks, everyone she knew before her, covered in blood and bits and gore and Hermione felt her stomach roll in revulsion.
There was no escape; everywhere she turned was another familiar face, stretching on for miles. She couldn't get away. Hermione felt a scream rip from her throat and tear into the air. She couldn't breathe, she couldn't breathe, she couldn't close her eyes because the images were burnt into her retina and wouldn't leave her.
"Hermione."
The voice was far away, dulled and faded under the noise of her screams.
"Hermione!"
More insistent now, but she couldn't open her eyes, couldn't turn away from the dead, lifeless loved ones before her.
------------------
"Hermione, sweetheart, open your eyes."
It was with a great, gasping sweep of air that Hermione awoke and threw herself into the waiting arms of the woman that had roused her.
"It was just a dream," Anna told her, brushing her hand comfortingly down the girl's curls.
"I know," came the muffled response; "I get them all the time now."
"We all do."
Hermione nodded and sat up, wiping at her eyes self-consciously.
"You don't have to be embarrassed, Hermione. Everybody's feeling the same way these days."
The Gryffindor nodded. "Thanks Anna. I hate this," she admitted. "I wish I had some of that potion Professor Snape is working on, the non-addictive Dreamless Sleep stuff."
Anna thought for a moment.
"I might have something that will do the trick. Come with me."
She led the young girl downstairs to the empty basement kitchen and sat her down before crossing to the counter and fixing a pot of sweet chamomile, honey and vanilla tea. When the water was hot and the tea infused, Anna laid her hands over the warm porcelain and poured a soothing sense of calm into the liquid. It tingled through her fingertips and into the tea. Hoping Hermione hadn't noticed in her sleep-induced haze, Anna poured the girl some tea and watched her take a gulp. Hermione's eyes shut and she let out a slow breath.
"Thank you, Anna. This tea is great."
"No worries. Do you want to talk about it?" she asked gently. "Sometimes that can make you feel better."
There was a short silence as Hermione sipped her tea, fingers curled around the mug.
"You were all dead," she said eventually. "I don't usually remember much of my dreams, but I know you were all dead. Everybody. I was so alone. I'm not sure I know how to handle this, Anna."
Anna sighed and drew her chair closer to Hermione.
"I don't pretend to know what this war is going to be like, Hermione, I was too young to have lived through the last one like the others have. I don't exactly know what to expect. But I do know what it's like to lose someone… my mother…" Anna hesitated but pressed on, knowing Hermione needed to hear this; "My mother was killed during the war." She looked evenly at the young girl. "I won't pretend that we won't lose anyone this time, Hermione, because we will. People are going to die and there is little that we can do about it now. But I know that we are never truly alone, even when it seems that way. My mother never left me. She may be gone but she lives on in me; in the gifts she gave me, my memories and the memories of those that loved her." Anna covered Hermione's hand with her own. "It'll be okay, Hermione, we'll pull each other through."
"Thank you, Anna," Hermione said, taking a long pull from her tea. "Are you sure you didn't slip a potion into this tea?"
Anna grinned and shook her head as Hermione's body visibly relaxed in front of her.
"Nope, no potion. Drink up and I'll take you to bed."
"Okay."
-------------------
Sirius growled low under his breath and scrunched another piece of paper into his fist before vaulting it into the bin.
"Nice shot," Anna commented, diligently chopping up potatoes for Molly beside Hermione, who was cutting garlic.
Sirius nodded noncommittally.
"Is something wrong?"
Sirius looked at Remus. His brow was cocked in question as he took another sip of tea.
"No," he responded finally, "Nothing at all."
Anna snorted; "Nothing, my foot. What's up?"
Sirius sighed and ran a hand through his hair, absentmindedly reminding himself to give it a trim.
"I'm trying to write a letter to Harry."
"And?"
He huffed.
"Well, it's not working! I don't know what to say! Dumbledore told us not to tell Harry anything important but really, the amount of times I can say 'Sit tight, we'll see you soon, can't tell you anything else' is rather limited."
"We're having the same problem, Ron and I," Hermione frowned, motioning with her head to where Ron and the twins were also listening intently.
"I just hate thinking of him with those horrible Muggles, beating his brain out trying to figure out what's going on with Voldemort." A few people shuddered but Sirius ignored them. "I'm his godfather. I should be doing everything I can to help him! Great job, Sirius."
Remus placed his hand on the shoulder of his old friend.
"We all know how you feel, Sirius. Everybody here has Harry's best interests at heart. But you know Dumbledore is right. And Harry will be here soon anyway, I'm sure of it."
"Thanks, Moony."
Remus clapped his hand on Sirius' shoulder again.
"No worries, Padfoot."
An identical flicker of realisation – quickly followed by confusion – flickered across the twins' faces.
"Wait, wait, wait, wait!" Fred said, gaping.
"Padfoot? Moony? The Padfoot and Moony –" George continued.
"Messieurs of Hogwarts –"
"Makers of the Marauders Map –"
"Trouble-makers extraordinaire?"
Sirius grinned rakishly at Remus.
"I didn't realise we were so famous."
"I think the word you're looking for is infamous," Anna joked, watching over her shoulder as Fred and George shared a look of admiration before catapulting across the table, bending into identical, flamboyant bows.
"Oh, Exulted Ones!" they cried ridiculously, kowtowing to Sirius and Remus. "To have met your personage is indeed a dream come true! Your work is awe-inspiring! Please, be so kind as to bestow some of your wisdom upon us unworthy souls, your brothers in mischief-making!"
Anna shook her head ruefully at Hermione as the two girls went back to preparing vegetables for Molly's stew. Behind them, Sirius was regaling the twins with stories of his youth, with the occasional input of an amused Remus.
"Well, at least he's not brooding anymore," Anna commented.
Hermione grinned. "Ah. Brooding, like Mr. Darcy."
Anna raised an eyebrow. "Mr. Darcy as in 'You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you?'" she said, putting on a rich baritone.
"The very same." Hermione sighed dramatically. "Colin Firth was born to play that role."
Anna's brow drew together in confusion.
"Huh?"
Hermione turned to Anna, a look of growing horror growing on her face.
"You've never watched television, have you?"
"Well," Anna began, mildly affronted, "At least I know what a television is. Most wizards – "
"No, no, you don't understand!" Hermione interrupted. "You don't know BBC! Oh my, you poor soul, we need a television, now!"
-------------------
"So they've actually made Jane Austen's books into these vomies?"
"Movies," Hermione corrected with a grin. "And others, too. I hear their making Emma soon."
Anna's eyes widened in wonder.
"We really need to get a television."
They both laughed when Hermione nodded vigorously. Anna gazed down the busy kitchen table, where the occupants of Grimmauld Place were munching happily on Molly's beef stew. Remus, Arthur and Sirius were engaged in conversation about the Ministry; Ron, Ginny and Bill were arguing heatedly about the Chudley Cannons' chance of winning the Quidditch League while Fred and George were discussing something softly under their breaths as Molly looked on disapprovingly.
A loud crack! resonated around the room and all conversation ceased. The flames in the fireplace turned a bright, emerald green and Albus Dumbledore emerged.
Anna didn't even need to see his stony face and the tense set to his shoulders to know that something had gone horribly wrong. She stood immediately.
"Albus, what is it? What's wrong?"
"Mundungus Fletcher!" he roared suddenly, and Anna saw that the children who had always viewed Dumbledore as a kind – if rather quirky – grandfatherly man, were quickly shaken out of that perception. "Is he here?"
"No, Albus, he's not," Anna replied, seemingly the only person capable of speaking to the formidable mage when he was in such a state. "What's happened?"
"Harry has been attacked."
Sirius stood up so abruptly his chair fell backward. "What? How?"
"Mundungus was on guard duty tonight and that fool of a wizard left his post," Dumbledore answered, his voice hard and unwavering. "Dementors came to Little Whinging."
Chaos erupted around the table and Dumbledore took a moment to sit down. Anna moved with him and he grasped her hand tightly. To her, he no longer looked frightening, but terribly, terribly old. Understanding, she quickly did all she could to calm and sooth him.
"Thank you, my dear," he told her softly as the noise around the table began to quieten. Dumbledore stood again. "The Ministry is trying to expel Harry for using the Patronus Charm. I have to go there now. Someone needs to contact Harry right away, telling him not to surrender his wand, not to do any magic and not to leave his Aunt and Uncle's house. I'll come back shortly once I've sorted all this out."
And with that, he was gone.
-------------------
"I'll send the letter," Arthur said quickly, jumping to his feet and jogging towards the door.
There was a numb silence.
Sirius picked up his chair and slowly sank into it, vaguely registering voices around him. His mind drifted miles away.
A scabbed and rotting hand clasped his jaw in a tight grip, the black folds of the spectral creatures cloak swarming around him. The hooded creature took a ragged, rasping breath as it lowered its face to the man lying limp in its arms. He was dimly aware of a soft, white light radiating around him before it flickered and went out, leaving him alone in the darkness with the creature before him.
Memories flooded his vision as the Dementors face sunk lower and lower, its black mouth widening slightly. A beautiful, redheaded woman clothed in a long, white dress danced slowly, moving against a tall, black haired man with round glasses perched precariously on his nose, both far away in the euphoria of their love…
The same woman lay cushioned against innumerable pillows, smiling luminously as the tall, bespectacled man placed a small, soft bundle into his arms, in which lay a tiny baby with bright green eyes and his father's messy black hair…
"Godfather, Padfoot?"
The same woman and man now lay amongst the ruins of a small cottage, their pale, lifeless eyes staring up at him, their fear and pain evident on their hollow, once-lively faces…
The creature lowered its hood, its gaping mouth now only scant inches from his face. He drew a ragged breath as he felt his memories, his happiness ebb away-
A cool hand fell to Sirius' cheek. He opened his eyes. Anna was crouching in front of him, concern laced in her features. Her hand, cool, comforting and calming, moved gently across his face.
"I'm okay," he assured her, feeling a light sense of joy enter his mind and fight away the shadows that had only just been haunting him. "I'm okay."
He turned away as Anna rose and looked to Hermione, whose face was pale. Her eyes, however, were dark and glinting and Sirius watched as something seemed to click behind them as the young girl observed Anna interact with him.
Hermione gasped, looked at Anna and suddenly shouted, "You're an Empath!"
A/N: Please review!
