Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.
A/N: I know... long time no update. I do apologise profusely. I know I've been crap at updating but I can assure you readers that come hell or high water I will finish this fic - because there's nothing I hate more than an unfinished fic :p So please forgive me and let me know what you think of this chpater by hitting the review button? ^_^
Chapter 14: If Wishes Were Horses…
Hermione sat slumped in a dining chair at Grimmauld Place, by the time they had got back from the hospital last night she had only managed a few hours sleep and she felt like dozing off there and then.
They had modified the table and duplicated chairs to fit all the Weasleys, Kingsley, as well as the three of them who lived at Grimmauld Place. Hermione felt like she had been thrown back in time to an Order meeting during the war. Except it wasn't the same, there were less people, more scars, more lines on faces that had been tired by grief. Despite the depleted numbers the group was making more than their fair share of noise. Harry sat opposite her and was silent, staring blankly at the table and pushing some rogue grains of salt around. However, every other member of the group seemed to have something to say, loudly, and at the same time.
"We have to respect his wishes -"
"It would be wrong -"
"There's still a chance!"
"Who would do this?"
"Death Eaters!"
"He's my son!"
"My brother and he wanted -"
"Don't talk like that!"
"Dumbledore would know what to do…"
"We have to be logical -"
"It's a warning -"
"It's happening again…"
"I don't know what to do…"
"What do we do?"
"SHUT UP!" Harry roared suddenly, red in the face and staring around angrily. "How is this going to help Ron?" he said gesticulating at the room. Mr Weasley let go of Remus' shirt he had been gripping threateningly and Ginny sat down with her back defiantly to her mother.
"Harry's right," Hermione agreed. "We need to discuss this calmly and decide what to do - and not just about Ron…this is bigger than that."
"That is my son!" Molly Weasley spat.
"Oh put a sock in it," Ginny hissed.
"Don't talk to your mother that way Ginevra!" Mr Weasley chided.
"Stop it! Just stop it, all of you!" Hermione exclaimed, standing suddenly and sending her chair toppling to the floor.
Everything they had worked for, all the sacrifices they had made during the war, seemed to be slipping away with every fractious word between the members of the group. Hermione felt like someone was squeezing the air out of her lungs but she forced herself to take a deep shuddering breath and speak.
"Ron…he wouldn't want us to be sat here arguing like this," she said wearily.
"No, he bloody wouldn't. So why doesn't everyone sit the fuck down," George said running a hand through his flaming hair and briefly exposing the scar where his ear used to be.
Chairs scraped and everyone seated themselves.
"Look, Mrs Weasley," Hermione said softly, still standing at the table. "I've thought about it and I can't make that sort of decision about Ron's treatment… I'll do whatever you and Mr Weasley want."
Mrs Weasley's eyes filled with tears and her lips trembled. "There must be a way to fix him…" she moaned, her grief on display for everyone to see.
"Molly," Remus said as he placed a comforting hand on her arm, "You heard the healers…"
"But Hermione…she managed to bring Sirius back maybe…?"
The unspoken question hung in the air like some putrid stink and all eyes turned to Hermione who felt like disappearing.
"Here," Sirius said softly and righted her chair, letting her slump into her seat again.
"Thanks," she whispered back.
"I don't think it's fair to put that sort of pressure on Hermione," Sirius said to Mrs Weasley.
"Well, you would say that Sirius - you're not the one dying!" Mrs Weasley snapped at him. "And I'm sure Hermione can speak for herself."
"I…" Words refused to materialise. "I'm sorry, I'm not a healer or a potions master." she whispered and shook her head at Mrs Weasley.
"Then what use are you to anyone? I always knew you were never good enough for my Ronald! Stringing him along all those years… I've half a mind to believe the things that Skeeter woman wrote about you!" The matronly redhead burst into tears and fled the room.
"Sorry, Hermione," Mr Weasley said. "She's just upset, I'm sure she didn't mean it…" He stood to follow his wife and comfort her.
"It's fine," Hermione murmured and watched as Mr Weasley shut the kitchen door behind him and muffled the sounds of Molly's sobs.
The group sat listening to the distant sounds of a mother's grief in a tense and suffocating silence until Kingsley spoke up.
"As of now we can all consider the Order of the Phoenix active once more. We must get the word out to the rest of the members. I will inform you all of the details for the next meeting in due time. I am sorry to leave you all but my duties as minister won't wait."
Once they'd said their goodbyes to Kingsley some of the others dwindled away to their own homes and troubled sleep, leaving Hermione, Sirius, Remus, Harry, Ginny, and George sat at the table in silence. Before anyone could speak Harry stood up violently and all but ran out of the kitchen, Hermione heard the front door slam.
"I'll go after him!" Ginny exclaimed and grabbed her coat.
"Great," George groaned. "Really great idea. S'pose I should go after her…Gin's hardly going to make this any better," He stood up and shrugged his cloak on. "Thanks for the tea guys…and welcome back Sirius," he smiled his haunted smile with half-empty eyes and left.
"Maybe I should -" Sirius was half out of his seat.
"Harry will be fine, Sirius," Hermione sighed. "He just needs time for everything to sink in, we all do."
"I'll make some tea," Remus said.
Hermione nodded appreciatively and sat quietly listening to the kettle whistle and turning the events of the last few weeks over in her head.
Several hours later Hermione woke up as a colossal crash reverberated through the house. "What was that?" She muttered to herself checking the alarm clock and finding it to be a little after 4am. Grabbing her wand and tiptoeing barefoot to the bedroom door she tried to ignore the thudding of her heart.
Every thought about Death Eaters, kidnappings, and attempted murder swirled in her mind on a loop as she listened intently. Her mouth felt dry. There was nothing for it, she had to investigate, Hermione resolved reaching for the brass door handle. Twisting slowly she tried to open the door as quietly as possible, wincing at every squeak he door made. Finally with a gap wide enough to squeeze through, Hermione slipped into the dark hallway.
With her back pressed up against the wall, Hermione slid quietly along the corridor until she was stood near the stairs. She listened intently and could hear someone moving around in the living room. There weren't any lights on but occasionally she could see the gleam of light from her vantage point, as though someone were using a candle or a wand to light their way.
For a moment Hermione considered going to wake Remus but it ran the risk of her being heard. The sooner she got downstairs and dealt with whoever it was bumping around in the dark, the better. Avoiding the third stair down that creaked horribly, Hermione descended the stairs with her wand pointing shakily ahead. She could barely see but didn't dare cast lumos and so she navigated by memory and feeling the edge of the stairs with her toes.
Her feet finally touched the rough weave of the rug in the entrance hall and she let out a quiet sigh of relief. The noises were definitely coming from the living room, she concluded as crept next to the slightly ajar door.
Standing as still as possible she considered her options. She could try and sneak up on the intruder but she didn't feel comfortable in her ability to be stealthy. No, the best thing to do was to confront the situation head on with the element of surprise. Taking a deep breath Hermione burst into the living room as fast as she could.
THUD. THUD.
Hermione lay on the floor staring at the entrance hall ceiling feeling incredibly dazed and confused. She was vaguely aware of a dull throbbing in her head and some sort of low buzzing noise. Actually the low buzzing noise seemed to be getting louder now she thought about it.
"….Hermione. Hermione?" She sat up to be faced with a large lump calling her name and crawling towards her. "Are you alright?" She nearly cried with relief and humiliation as Sirius came crawling out of the darkness rubbing his forehead. "Are you alright?" He asked again as he flopped down next to her.
"I think so," Hermione replied touching her head where a lump was now forming.
"Fuck, you nearly knocked me out!" Sirius swore quietly, she could hear a hint of amusement in his voice.
"Me? I've got a golf ball on my head!" She replied.
She felt Sirius flourish his wand and the lights flickered on in the entrance hall. "That's better!" Sirius said.
"Well aren't we a pair," Hermione said as she cradled her injured head and looked on at the impressive bruise now forming on Sirius'. They sat for a moment in silence and Hermione took the opportunity to orientate herself.
"Pair? I'm hardly implicated in this fiasco," Sirius said indignantly. "The door merely ricocheted off my poor beautiful face and into my assailant!"
"Assailant?" Hermione laughed. "I thought you were an intruder!"
"Paranoia…" Sirius whispered at her.
"Oh be quiet. What were you doing skulking around in the dark half dressed anyway?" She said snippily, trying to look disdainfully at his bare chest.
"Looking for the stash of fire whiskey I left behind the wall panel next to the living room door," he admitted with a grin.
"In the dark?"
"I didn't want to wake anyone up," he said sheepishly.
Hermione stood up and shuffled into the kitchen to get a glass of water, leaving Sirius behind her. She felt her cheeks burn pink at her foolish fear that now led her to be standing on tiptoe and reaching for a pain potion. "Oh bloody hell!" she grumbled to herself, pushing her wild hair out of her face and leaning closer to the cupboard, stretching as far as she could to inch her fingers within reach of the potion.
"Here," Sirius said from behind her, reaching over her to the cupboard.
"No, really it's fine!" Hermione squeaked, suddenly aware that she was now caught between Sirius and the counter. She could feel the heat from his chest through the back of her spaghetti strap top.
Sirius stood back and waved a potion triumphantly in her face. "Drink up!" He said as he uncorked his vial and knocked back the purple liquid. Hermione felt instantly better as the potion eased the sore throbbing from her head and a niggling neck pain she didn't realise she had. "I'm going to have a nightcap," Sirius said cheerily. "Care to join?"
"I shouldn't…" Hermione said reluctantly.
"Just one tiny little smidgen?"
"Just one," She agreed. Sirius beamed at her and gestured her to follow him.
When Sirius had said he was looking for his stash of fire whiskey behind the panel in the living room, Hermione had presumed that he had hidden a couple of bottles away for a rainy day. She was very much mistaken. Sirius appeared to have hidden away enough to see him through a monsoon season.
"Merlin, Sirius!" She exclaimed looking at a space in the wall the size of a small bookcase. There were bottles of mature brandy, fire whiskey, vintage wines, a crate of butterbeer, and a variety of meads and cordials.
"This," Sirius said with a flourish, "Is the choicest trimmings of the Black family wine cellars, I personally collected between the ages of eleven and fifteen."
"Didn't they notice?" Hermione asked as she examined a particularly nice looking bottle of mead.
Sirius laughed. "My parents got our house elves to inventory all our food and drink and replenish it if needed. Can you imagine a house elf confronting its evil pureblood masters about their drinking habits?"
"Point taken," Hermione replied with a smile. Based upon the portrait of Mrs Black that had once hung at the top of the stairs, she didn't blame someone wanting to avoid confrontation with her.
"An excellent choice!" Sirius said happily, plucking the mead out of her hands and grabbing two crystal tumblers on his way to the sofa. "I fancied something a little more mellow," he continued as he deftly broke the wax seal on the bottle and magically uncorked it.
Hermione perched on the sofa and took a sip of the mead. The mead was like honey but with the rich warmth of alcohol, it lacked all the harshness of fire whiskey and soothed her. "How are you coping?" Sirius asked suddenly.
"What?" Hermione replied surprised.
"Well you know… with Ron and the way Molly acted," he said with a shrug. "Which by the way I think was deplorable - critically ill son or none."
"I'm fine, Sirius. This sort of thing - the drama, the looming threat - it's old hat for me now, I just sort of go with it." She took another sip of her drink. "And you can't blame Molly really, she's been through so much."
"Hmm," Sirius hummed. "I still don't understand why the Death Eaters are regrouping now," he said turning his glass thoughtfully in his graceful hands.
Emotion welled in Hermione unbidden. "I don't know," Hermione sighed holding back tears. "I just wish they'd leave us alone." A tear leaked from her eyes.
"Come here," Sirius said opening an arm to her.
With the offer of comfort Hermione scooted along the sofa and let Sirius put his arm around her. She leant her head on his shoulder and they both sat in silence sipping their mead and staring ahead at the empty fireplace. "I just wish…" The words never truly formed and instead tears traced her face.
"Ugh," she muttered finally sitting up and wiping her face. "If wishes were horses then beggars would ride," she said and sniffed back her emotions.
"Very true," Sirius concurred. Off to bed?" Sirius asked as though she had not just spent the last fifteen minutes sobbing on his bare shoulder.
"Yeah," Hermione said clearing her throat awkwardly. "Sorry about that…"
"Sorry about what?" Sirius asked with an innocent look before smiling at her and pouring himself another drink.
Hermione smiled to herself as she crept back up to bed, thinking that the world was a better place with Sirius Black in it.
o0o0o0o0o0o
Harry Potter finally left the muggle bar, stumbling slightly as he wandered along the pavement. He wasn't far away from the Leaky Cauldron where he could floo home but he knew he was far too drunk to apparate without splinching himself. The night of drinking had dulled some of the pain and taken the edge off the memory of Ron's face as the poison took hold. Harry shuddered and increased his pace, the sooner he got back home the sooner he could fall into a drunken oblivion in his bed.
In his alcohol-induced state Harry did not hear the heavy footsteps behind him or expect the curse that flew out of the dark and sent him sprawling to the pavement...
A/N: Excuse this chapter being a bit 'meh' - now the plot is really going to get moving. Ahead is adventure, angst, and some awkward situations for Sirius and Hermione :)