Cursing under her breath, Hermione climbed the last flights to the North Tower. Loathe as she was to admit it, Harry had been right. If there was anyone who could help her use this new gift, it was Trelawney. She didn't want to end up passing out every time she touched someone new. If they had the book with them, they could have looked it up- but Hogwarts's library didn't have such a rare volume, and she hadn't thought to bring Sirius's copy with her because she had never thought the spell would work. As for the boys, Merlin would become a ghost before either of them could be expected to pack a book that wasn't required. Trelawney, however, was nowhere in sight.
"Professor Trelawney?" She called out. "Could I ask you about something?"
"Yeeesss?" Came a far-off voice. "Sit down, child, sit down… I'll be there in a minute…"
Hermione took a seat on one of the poofs, and looked around the room as she waited for Trelawney to appear. The room hadn't changed a bit- it had the same crystal orbs in the middle of each table, the same dingy smell, and the same enormous windows that lined the ceiling. Trelawney hadn't changed, either: she had the same floating walk and serene, if a little batty, air about her as she sat opposite Hermione.
"My inner eye sees trouble in your soul, child." She beamed.
Yes, well, my mirror could have told me that. "That's actually what I wanted to talk to you about. I know I've never been particularly good at divining the future, but over the summer my friends cast a spell on me- Aperi animam meam, and the other day I touched someone and had a vision of their past and passed out. The book said I would be able to control it after the first time, but I don't know how."
"Aperi animam meam? That's a very old piece of magic, Miss Granger… Where did you find it? Never mind, never mind, it is of no importance when your soul is concerned. I must say it surprises me, to find the gift with you… It is rare nowadays. Perhaps you should tell Albus… Yes.. There are always bonds to be considered…Anyway, it shouldn't be hard for even you to control- the magic is based on intent. It does not have, shall we say, the subtleties of Seeing the future. Merely the conscious wish to know should suffice… though of course you will have to be touching the person for the duration. I've heard it scarcely takes more than a few seconds, though… Would you like to try it on me, dear?" She held out her arm, sticking out of her lavender shawl like a frail branch from an old and withered tree.
"Um, no thank you, Professor." She really didn't want to see what Trelawney got up to in her free time- she had a sneaking suspicion it involved a lot of cats and cats. "So I won't pass out? And I won't see someone's past if I don't want to?"
"You won't See unless you choose to. As for your losing consciousness, I cannot be sure. The Inner Eye often feels the need to rid itself of the earthly to see beyond, if you know what I mean."
Hermione thanked her and left before Trelawney tried to prophecy her imminent death, warnings and advise to tell Dumbledore lost in the jumble of her thoughts. It surprised her, however, that the next door she found herself before was not one with the Fat Lady, but rather belonged to Snape's office. Her feet seemed to have a mind of their own these days. It was before curfew…Wondering exactly when she had lost her mind, Hermione knocked on his door.
"Enter." If Snape was startled she had come to see him, he didn't show it. "And what brings you to me, Miss Granger, for the first time in five years?" He glared at her, daring her to lie.
"I-um, I wanted to- can I sit down?" He frowned, but nodded.
"Iwantedtoseeifyouwerealright," she let out in one breath, sitting in one of the chairs in front of his desk.
"Miss Granger, if you are under the impression I will be wasting my time deciphering your gibberish, you are sorely mistaken. Either address me properly or remove yourself from my presence."
"I wanted to ask if you were alright, sir."
He froze. "And why would you be wondering such a thing? Do I look incapacitated to you, Miss Granger? Because I assure you, what I do is none of your business."
"I'm making it my business."
"Language, Miss Granger."
"Look, I just want to help! I saw the state you returned in last time, and I can't stand by while you go risk your neck!"
"How very Gryffindor of you." He sneered. "If you truly wish to assist me, you will leave. Now."
"No!" Oh God. I just shouted at a Professor. At Professor Snape. He's going to kill me.
"Detention, Granger! For a month. And if you don't leave this office this instant, it will be straight to the Headmaster's office and we'll see what he has to say about his little know-it-all wandering about the castle and sticking her nose where he has expressly forbidden it from being. I imagine you will never go to London again."
She was seething in anger as she left- never go to Grimmauld Place again! Yes, Dumbledore would probably give her a well-deserved reprimand, but he wouldn't shut her out… would he? He keep practically everything from Harry. She shook her head- she had more urgent problems to deal with. Like a month's detention with Snape. Then again, at least she would be able to see what he was up to without storming his office again. Assuming he didn't hand her off to Filch.
Severus Snape found himself in a position he hadn't been in for twenty years. And it was all because of darn Granger. She had insisted on healing him when he didn't have the strength to throw her out, and now she had the audacity to come back and ask if he was alright. No-one asked him that- he reported to Dumbledore and that was the end of it. The bloody Order wasn't concerning itself with his well-being, why on earth was she? And she had known what he had done when she had decided to stay. If he had been the type of man that let his emotions show, he would have shaken his head. Detention would serve her well. Still, he couldn't help the pang of guilt he felt as he remembered his reaction to her. It was necessary, but she seemed to really care… what a Gryffindor sentiment.
When Hermione woke to find Professor McGonagall waiting for her, she knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that something was seriously wrong. Minerva McGonagall never visited the dormitory, let alone to tell her to get dressed as quickly as possible so they could leave. Especially not during Christmas break. As they hurried to Dumbledore's office, the Professor filled Hermione in, and her worst fears were confirmed. Somebody had been attacked, grievously injured- they were lucky Mr. Weasley was still alive.
12 Grimmauld Place, which had been alive and humming on her last visit, now had so much tension in its air it could be cut with a knife. Even Fred and George were sulking, and everyone had retired at 10 o'clock. Arthur Weasley was stable, but no-one felt like sitting together without him. Now, she stared at the ceiling in the room she shared with Ginny, listening to her snore softly. Everyone was knackered, mentally as well as physically, and it wasn't long until Hermione drifted off as well.
She woke to the tortured cries, and on instinct grabbed her wand and tore through the house- the sound was coming from the topmost floor. She slammed the door open, casting a quick lumos. She lowered her wand- Hermione was standing in the middle of Sirius's bedroom. And the source of the sounds that had cut through her sleep like a knife was no other than the man in the bed. Tangled in the bedsheets, his eyes screwed shut, breath coming in ragged pants. Quickly but quietly, she sat on the side on the bed and put a hand on the shoulder furthest from her.
"Sirius. Sirius!" She shook him gently, and was relieved to see him still and open his eyes. "You were having a nightmare."
He sat up, still shaking slightly, and she handed him a glass of water she conjured. "Do you want to talk about it?"
He shook his head, taking a small sip out of the glass. "I must've forgot my Dreamless Sleep, what with all that's happened…Thanks, Hermione."
"Don't mention it. Do you always have nightmares?"
"No." He took a larger drink of water. "This house always sets them off. Features in a lot of them, as well."
"I know it can't be easy for you, living in a house with so many bad memories, Sirius. But… maybe it's a blessing in disguise. You can make happy memories in it now, with Order and Harry. You know, break the hold it has over you."
He smiled, but it wasn't the warm, sincere one she was used to seeing on his face. "It's not just the house, Hermione. I spent 16 years of my life here, with the living, breathing version of the portrait downstairs-" Hermione shuddered at the mention of Walburga Black "a handful of them fighting tooth and nail to bring down one of the darkest wizards to walk the earth and keep my friends alive, and not only spectacularly failed, spent 12 years in Azkaban before I could even avenge them. I don't think forgiveness is coming to me in a hurry."
She took the cup of water from him and vanished it, wrapping her arms around him and resting her head on his shoulder. "You're a good man, Sirius Black. And you've got your whole life ahead of you. How old are you now? 35?"
"36."
"Right. And how old is Dumbledore? 100? Just… stay alive, alright? Harry really needs you. And you are doing something important for the Order by being here." He held her a bit closer. "I'm sure James would be proud" she whispered.
Sirius let his head sink into the crook of her neck, and she felt moisture against her skin.
—
It was the wee hours of the morning when Hermione left the top floor to go back to bed. What she had not been expecting was a very ominous Professor Snape, his eyes fixed on her from where he stood on the landing staircase. She bit her lip- he must have seen exactly where she was coming from. But before she could open her mouth, he turned around and walked out the door.
