Chapter Two

Two weeks later

Number 12 Grimmauld Place bustled with activity. Many members of the Order of the Phoenix congregated within the library, hallways, and kitchen as they waited for others to arrive and for the meeting to begin. Many were unaware the reasoning as to why Harry had called for a meeting. It had been several months since the last one; the last gathering was a party for New Year's not a meeting.

Some members had an inkling that the meeting had something to do with an Anniversary Celebration, but no one voiced their opinions on the matter. Even so, the atmosphere within Grimmauld Place was akin to the tension during wartime. The atmosphere baffled many of the members.

Hermione Granger, on the other hand, was aware of the tension and perhaps the source of some of the tension as tension emanated from her pores, or so it seemed. Even though, she had been focused on overturning the approaching law, she admitted to herself that she was fighting a losing battle. She would continue to fight, however. She would adapt and adjust, but she would not give up.

She had left her research warded within her room upstairs, an exact copy in a Gringotts account, and a hand written summary in a muggle bank security deposit box, her mind continued to wrestle with different scenarios that could unfold today and on Monday. She was bordering on paranoia, she knew. Today marked two days before the anniversary of the Battle of Hogwarts yet she was no nearer in stopping the law than four months ago when she stumbled upon the nefarious plan.

The tapestry room had always fascinated her, but she had not entered the room since her seventh year. No one had cause to enter the room, except Crookshanks and Kreacher, for years, yet Kreacher had kept the room free from dust and debris. It was, perhaps, the most pristine room in the home. Kreacher viewed the tapestry as something sacred and frequently stared at it in awe as if he were worshiping it. Crookshanks had, long ago, claimed the room as his own by dragging his bed into the room. Hermione didn't blame the cat. Whenever she could, she often liked the idea of finding an empty room and hiding there. Her makeshift family was overwhelming, even at the best of times.

In this moment, Hermione was thankful for Kreacher's obsession with preserving all things Black. She needed information. Also, this room provided an escape for her. She needed a moment to herself away from the Order to prepare herself for the meeting yet still be in hearing distance of the conversations that occurred while the Order waited for others, particularly Harry to arrive.

The tapestry room provided an isolated yet central place for her to regain her barrings. She hadn't realized that the room was occupied when she stepped inside. She smiled at her familiar when she saw him curled up on an ancient pillow near the wall opposite the door. She turned from closing the door, leaving the door cracked just so. She heard the muttering before she saw the ancient House Elf.

"Unclean Mud-born mustn't be, in this room. Disrespectful to the purity of the House of Black, she is. Unworthy of the Noble House of Black, her ancestor. Under her spell, Masters are."

Hermione crossed her arms in a self-soothing motion. She stood firm footed with her back to Kreacher as she investigated the tapestry with her dark honey brown eyes. She had a copy of most of the family trees of each of the Sacred Twenty-Eight from her time researching over the years, but the tapestry held history within the history. And, the tapestry would be most accurate and would hold more information than the copy she had...she hoped. Over the years, the Black Family as well as others in the Sacred Twenty-Eight had disowned several relatives, some legally, but mostly it was banishment of the relative from family events or affairs. Each burnt mark, on this tapestry, held a story. She wondered if other families blasted relatives off their tapestries as Walburga had done.

Hermione brought her right hand toward the burnt mark where she knew once held the name of Andromeda. The knuckle of her right index finger barely caressed the charred cloth. She fixed her eyes upon the charred mark in order to avoid seeing the name of Bellatrix Black Lestrange.

"Careful, love." Sirius said as he gently grabbed her wrist to remove her hand from the tapestry. "The tapestry is cursed. May I?" He said as he moved his wand back and forth between his right thumb and index finger.

"Cursed?" She said as she turned toward him with her brow furrowed. She nodded in acquiesce for him to use magic on her. "What do you mean it's cursed? How did you know I was here?"

He swished his wand over her hand as he performed a nonverbal spell while he gingerly held her hand within his left hand. Afterward, Sirius shifted his weight from one leg to the other as he continued to hold her hand.

Hermione repeated firmly, "Sirius? What do you mean it's cursed?" She extracted her hand from his. "And, what spell did you just use?"

"My Grandfather cursed it to prevent my Dad from bringing home a Muggleborn or half-blood to wed. The family was adamant that the direct line stay pure. Perhaps, explains why Dad married Walburga." He shrugged then looked in concern to Hermione's cat which had began to cough as if struggling to cough up a hairball.

Hermione turned slightly to look at her familiar in a mixture of concern and pity. He was getting old and she feared that she didn't have much more time with him. After all, she had bought him in third year. He had been in the pet shop off and on for several years before she bought him. His mixed-species usually lived fifteen years.

Sirius smirked at Hermione when he realized that he had lost her attention. "Hey," She looked back at him. He stated, "Andy wasn't the first one to run off with a Muggleborn. It happened, at least, once a generation, sometimes it would skip a generation or two." He grinned. "Any witch Dad would bring home would be subjected to the tapestry test." He revealed as he touched his brother's name on the tapestry then his father's father's name with the tip of his wand.

"How horrid."

He added, "Anyone of 'questionable blood' that touches it will within the hour have the appendage die and fall off. I cast the counter curse to prevent the curse from effecting you. I haven't figured out how to remove the curse on the tapestry." He looked downward at the top of her head. "And, as for knowing where you are, I could have checked the wards, but Kreacher passed me in the hallway muttering about you interrupting his chat with Master Regulus." He smiled at the look of confusion on Hermione's face. "Kreacher often comes in here to talk to the tapestry as if Regulus were here instead. I thought it creepy for the longest time, but now I think it's sad. Kreacher worshiped Walburga, but he loved Regulus."

"Sirius," She said, apprehensive. "The curse you explained is dark magic. The counter-curse must be just as dark."

"Yes," He shrugged. "My grandfather was a Black, after all."

"There are several people throughout the years who have touched it. I remember back in fifth year, everyone was fascinated by it. Everyone in the Order has touched it, at one point. No appendages fell off. Even Harry touched it. He isn't a Pureblood."

He rubbed the back of his neck as he said, "Well, yes. Um," He glanced away from Hermione to the tapestry. "My grandfather had a particular blood type that he considered questionable and the curse is targeted toward witches not wizards."

"Yes," Hermione rolled her eyes. "I've heard that O- blood from a woman can be quite questionable."

Sirius blinked at the muggle joke. He vaguely recognized the reference as a medical one, but didn't understand the humor her statement held. He smiled forgiving at her as he said. "Let's pretend that Harry was a witch instead of a wizard," He paused as he noticed her smile. "Don't you ever tell him about this hypothetical analogy. Anyway, Harry, male or female, although a half-blood, can trace his lineage to a Pureblood Black. You, my dear, are a talented, brilliant witch who is equal if not superior to many Pureblood witches and wizards, may I add, but..."

Hermione grinned as she said, "Sirius, you can say it. I know that you don't share the same views as your grandfather and most of your family. Questionable blood was your tactful way of saying muggle-born, wasn't it?." She smiled as she touched his right hand that now rested on the tapestry. "Your worry is for naught, I've touched this tapestry many times since you first showed it to me and Tonks back before my fifth year. I know you told me not to touch it, but you didn't say why." She chuckled as she waved her fingers at Sirius. "See, all fingers and thumbs are accounted for."

"That's odd." Sirius muttered. His eyes widened at his faux pas. "I'm sorry, Hermione. I didn't mean it like that. The curse was never removed to my knowledge. Unless Bill was able to break the curse."

"No. I don't think he did, but even if he did, I touched it before he began working on it and other objects in Grimmauld. I wish he could figure out the curse on your Mother's painting."

Crookshanks ran toward the closed door and meowed at it. Both Hermione and Sirius glanced toward the cat. The door opened to let the cat out then closed. Sirius furrowed his brow and tapped his right index finger against his chin as he glanced from the door to Hermione. "Very peculiar. In any event, I'm grateful that you were and are unharmed."

She sighed, melancholy. "For how long, though?" She wrapped her arms around her mid-section as she took a step toward the tapestry and glanced upward at older generations of the Black family. "Sirius..." She paused. He glanced from the tapestry down to the top of her head. "I was so close to stopping this law. I had hoped to stop it, but time isn't my friend. I'm missing a few large pieces of the puzzle. With those pieces, whatever those pieces are, the law can be stopped. I know it."

Sirius wrapped her in a friendly, comforting side-hug. The top of her head reached his axilla. "Kitten, don't give up so easily. You have two days before the Wizengamot signs the amendment of the legislation into law."

"Sirius, I understand that you want to be encouraging, but I'm a realist. Monday morning at precisely 10 AM, my life as well as every other muggle-born witch within the age range, will end as we know it. Give up, never? But, I must recognize the size of the fight in order to adapt battle tactics."

"So," Sirius said as he tried to change the subject. He stepped away from the side hug and made a motion toward the tapestry. "Whose name were you touching on the tapestry? I was focused on removing your hand and didn't notice."

"Andromeda."

"Andy?" Sirius asked, surprised. "What made you want to finger her?"

"Don't be crude."

He shrugged. "Not my fault your mind went to the gutter, babe."

Cheekily, she said. "You have that effect on women."

"I do, don't I?" He flexed his arms in a flirtatious, but intentionally over the top way.

Hermione slightly smirked as she said, "For someone with such pure blood, you are quite the dirty wizard."

Playfully, he waggled his eyebrows at her. "You haven't seen me being the dirty wizard that I can be."

She retorted as she crossed her arms under her breasts. "Nor do I ever want to see."

Sirius roared in laughter as he pulled her into a frontal hug. Hermione laid the side of her head against his black T-shirt clad chest. He nuzzled her ear with his nose as he continued to chuckle. Hermione stiffened for a millisecond before she relaxed. She focused on keeping her breathing calm and slow. The awareness she suddenly felt for him had shocked her. Although, Sirius had always been touchy with her and others, perhaps overtly so since he returned from the veil, he hadn't ever touched her so tenderly.

Sirius pulled slightly away before he gently pressed his closed lips against her forehead. "I've missed that sass."

She smiled sadly. "And, I'll miss your flirty playboy antics." She sighed. "I'll even miss you yelling at Kreacher. Just promise me that you won't murder him once I'm gone."

"Love," He said as he stepped away from her. She kept her hands resting on his shoulders as he gently cupped her upper arms in his hands. "You sound as if your preparing yourself to walk to the gallows."

"That is an adequate illustration." Hermione said before she exhaled a shuddering breath. "In many ways, I view Monday morning as a death sentence." She looked away from his concerned grey eyes. "Perhaps a literal one depending on which Death Eater..." She trailed off unable to say the words that indicated that she would be considered a piece of property to be bought as of Monday morning.

"Hermione," Sirius said in a tone that belayed his disappointment. "Do you really think the Order would allow you be bought by a Death Eater?"

"Sirius," She stepped away from him. He folded his arms as he watched her. She wouldn't look at him. "The Order is allowing the law to pass. I," She paused as she looked around. She sighed as she grabbed her wand from the wand holster in her sleeve. She performed a strong silencing spell as well as a Notice-Me Not.

"Love, I placed two or three spells on this room as I walked in. Whatever we say is between us and," He made a quick motion with his thumb toward the tapestry behind him. "The Noble," he rolled his eyes. "House of Black."

In a small voice, quite unlike her, she said, "I don't trust the Order, Sirius."

"Oh," He said as he placed his right elbow in his left hand. He rubbed the stubble on his right jaw with his right hand. "I, well. Love, no other woman has ever made me speechless before, unless you count that time Lily's sister made a pass at me. I promise that I was speechless, because I was repulsed not that I entertained the idea. Mind you, this didn't happen when we were younger, even so, I wouldn't have took her up on it."

"Sirius? You're not quite speechless. You're rambling."

"Yes, yes, I am." Sirius shook his head. Strands of his black hair fell from his low, loose pony tail. "After everything you and Harry have been through..."

"Oh," Hermione said, her eyes widening. "No, Sirius." She stepped forward toward him, but he took a step backward, his back almost touching the tapestry. She hung her head. "You misunderstand me. I trust Harry with my life, literally I AM trusting Harry with my life, right now. While I've been focusing on fighting the law, he has been creating a back-up plan for when the law passes. I don't know what the plan entails, but I want to trust it. I do not, however, trust the Order as a whole. I can't prove anything, but...just forget I said anything."

He arched an eyebrow at her as he said, "Not happening, love." He closed the distance between them by taking two large steps toward her. He gently grasped her hands in his as he stared downward at her. "Explain."

She looked downward at her hands engulfed in his instead of looking upward to make eye contact with him. "I've said, too much."

He nodded as he gently extracted his left hand in order to tilt her chin upward with his left index finger. "Most likely. But, I am Sirius. Explain."

She chuckled at his attempt at a joke. Brown orbs met grey ones. He returned his left hand to her hands.

She smiled, sadly, as she said, "There are certain members of the Order that could have assisted me," She paused a moment to inhale and exhale a calming breath. She began nervously, mindlessly, rubbing small circles on his right palm with the pad of her thumb. "But they did not. He lied to me. He claimed that he was unable to offer assistance even though he said he wanted to help me, in any way. I know that he did, but not why."

"Ah," Sirius said as he nodded. He gently stilled her thumb that rubbed circles into his palm. "Say no more. I understand."

She turned her head slightly as she quickly nibbled her bottom lip as if she was in deep thought. She asked, "Do you, though?"

"Yes, Hermione." He said, as he glanced at her pearly white teeth grazing her plump pink bottom lip. He swallowed as he berated himself. He tried to re-initiate eye contact, but she was glancing over his shoulder at the tapestry. Thankfully, she had stopped biting her lip. He hoped to Merlin that she had not noticed what he had done. "I share your mistrust. No need to say a name. Just know, please, that if no one else has your back, Harry and I do. There are many others who do have your back, but I've got your back where Harry isn't able, where no one else can. No matter what happens concerning the law, rest assured that I will protect you from harm. I promise."

Hermione frowned as she glanced from the tapestry to him. "You're not one to make empty promises, Sirius." She removed her hands from his and stepped backward. "Please, don't start now."

She left the room before he could reply. He shook his head as he turned around to face the tapestry.

He understood, to a minuscule point, why Kreacher was fascinated by the tapestry which held the record of generations of the Black family tree. But, he questioned why Hermione was fascinated by it.

He had many questions and very little answers.

Could her fascination have anything to do with his ancestor, Capri?

And, why was she fixated on Andromeda's burn mark?

Yet, a more fascinating of a question, how did she unknowingly bypass his grandfather's curse?

But, most peculiar, how in Merlin, did she non-verbally cast a spell opening a door for her cat that he, Sirius, the Master of Grimmauld Place, had warded shut?

They weren't married yet, nor officially betrothed, but Sirius had come to the conclusion that Grimmauld Place must already recognize her as its Mistress.

Wrong, he was.

Author's Note: Thank you for reading and apologies for the delay in an update. I've been a busy writer-elf. Chapter three and four are written and under going edits; please, expect Chapter Three out within the week.

I love reading your thoughts, suggestions, predictions, and commentary. Thank you to: all who have submitted reviews, added this story or my author page to your favorites or alerts, and those who are silently reading.

I blame Baby Yoda memes for some of the syntax in this chapter. I couldn't resist incorporating his speech pattern into Kreacher. Imagine if we had gotten a peek at a Baby Dobby? Kreacher, on the other hand, has always been Kreacher: he was born with an ancient soul.

- Bren