In the few moments between waking and opening her eyes, Hermione felt a wellspring of panic and dread slowly rising up from her gut, passing through her chest and finally settling in her throat. The harsh thrumming of her heart washed over her whole body. The last thing she remembered was a cacophony of curses and echoing voices, and disorienting lights mirrored off of polished black marble, making the current quiet jarring and full of possibilities.
After a heartbeat and a bracing breath, she pried her eyes open. The familiar buttresses of the Hogwarts infirmary greeted her, and reassured her that, at the very least, they had pulled through and gotten out of the Ministry. She let herself relax for a moment, sinking into the pillow under her head and closing her eyes to breathe in the calm after the chaos of the DOM. The deep pulsing pressure behind her eyes receded. She didn't know how long she had been unconscious, but she was now safe from bodily harm and imminent death.
As her mind cleared, Hermione noticed she could hear hushed voices from beyond the privacy curtain that surrounded her cot. The voices were getting closer and she realized she recognized them right before two familiar faces peaked around the mint colored cloths.
"Hermione! You're awake." Ron exclaimed, his light eyes brightening up at the sight of her. "You've been asleep for ages."
"How long was I out?" Hermione asked, a knot of concern balled up in her ribcage. Or maybe that was just the tight, sharp pain that crossed her torso as she tried to sit up.
"A couple of days." Harry responded with a wince. He helped her ease into a sitting position before pulling out one of the beside chairs and falling into it.
"Is everyone else okay?" Hermione asked. She looked them both over and was slightly alarmed at the sight of red welts that wrapped around his neck. "What happened?"
"Everyone is fine." Ron insisted as he sat at the end of her bed. "I had a bit of a nasty run in with those floating brains. But besides that and Ginny's broken ankle, Neville's broken nose, and a few other scrapes, everyone got out relatively unscathed. Apart from you, of course."
Broken bones were an easy fix in the wizarding world, thankfully. Hermione was slightly embarrassed to have been the only one to end up being unconscious for so long but she was grateful no one else seemed to be hurt.
"The Order showed up just in time and got us out of the thick of it. But even still, You-Know-Who showed up and everything went sideways again. Thankfully Dumbledore showed up."
"Voldemort came to the Ministry?!" Hermione gasped, ignoring Ron's involuntary flinch at the name.
"Yeah, but that's not the craziest part." Ron continued, leaning forward as he got into the story. "Sirius went through the Death Veil thing."
Hermione felt the blood drain out of her face. She remembered that archway and the ominous voices Harry said he heard, and the vague memory of Sirius grinning as he danced around the arch while dueling with Bellatrix.
"Ron, you idiot." Harry admonished, kicking his best friend's shin. "Sirius is fine, Hermione. He somehow came out of it. It's apparently the first time that's ever happened, so it's kind of a big deal."
Hermione felt weak with relief. She sagged against her pillows, having not even realized that she had straightened her back in her alarm.
"Oh! Oh. Thank God." She said as she covered her eyes with her hands and took a shuddering breath to calm her racing heart rate. The sudden movement made her injuries ache fiercely and she breathed out through her nose sharply. "You need to tell me what happened. Properly this time. Don't give me a heart attack."
"Sorry." Ron said sheepishly scratching the back of his neck.
"After you got cursed, we ended up getting surrounded in the Death Room. The Prophecy fell out of Neville's pocket and I smashed it so that the Death Eaters couldn't get their hands on it. After that everything went out of control. Thankfully, Sirius and a few other order member's showed up and saved our asses. It was chaos. Sirius ended up fighting with Bellatrix and she knocked him back into the Veil." Harry looked miserable at the memory. Hermione reached over and put her hand over his. He smiled his thanks for the silent support. Nearly losing his only family and one of the few connections he had to his parents must have scared him beyond belief. That was the sort of terror that would keep haunting him for years to come. "Well, she ran, and I chased after her. She escaped, but Voldemort appeared in the atrium." Harry's eyes went dark. There was a terrible fear that was left behind from that encounter. A scar that hadn't yet healed on his mind.
"What happened, Harry?" Hermione asked, squeezing his knuckles.
"I…" He started, but stopped. He looked up at her and the horror that peaked out at her sent chills up her spine. "I should have taken the Occlumency lessons more seriously."
Hermione didn't ask any more about it, and Harry kept mum, letting the subject rest with that one tidbit of information. It was enough for now. If he wanted to disclose more of the experience later, he would. Hermione intended to be there for him always.
Ron cleared his throat, looking equally discomfited about what Harry had implied as they did. "It's not entirely your fault, mate. Snape wasn't exactly a willing tutor."
Hermione nodded emphatically, even though she had been the one to nag Harry over his Occlumency lessons. Even if he had successfully gotten a grasp on the subject, how much would it have been a guard against someone as powerful and practiced as Voldemort? Not that Harry wasn't a good wizard, but a few months of lessons was no match for decades of practice.
"Anyway, Dumbledore showed up and scared him off. Sirius came running in a minute later and that's just about it." Harry finished, lamely.
There was a grander story in there but Hermione got the gist of it. The details weren't really what was important right now. What was, was that everyone was safe.
She let a few moments of heavy, but not uncomfortable silence go by before asking her next question. "What happened with Sirius? Did he run?"
"No, actually, he's around here somewhere." Answered Ron. He craned his neck around like he expected Sirius to pop out from behind the curtain.
"Was he pardoned by the Ministry?!" Hermione asked excitedly. If he was here and roaming freely and not back in Azkaban, they must have realized that he was innocent.
"Not officially. The Ministry is a mess right now. Fudge has been deposed as Minister." Ron said, leaning in with wide eyes. "People are not happy with them right now."
"They tried to keep Sirius at the Ministry for study after falling through the Veil, but he refused. Mad-eye made a huge stink in front of everyone that they had no right detaining him after wrongfully imprisoning him for twelve years. That got the aurors and the Ministry officials off his back for now." Harry said. A bit of a pleased tint colored his voice and expression. "They already look bad enough that they couldn't afford to keep him."
"And everyone is just accepting that he's innocent? What did the paper say?" Hermione asked. She pulled herself up a little more in an attempt to take some pressure off of her abs.
"Sort of. The paper didn't really say anything about Sirius so most people don't even know that he was involved at all. And I think everyone in the castle is too preoccupied with the news of Voldemort returning to even really notice him around, and he's been sticking around the Hospital Wing for the most part."
"Whatever for?" Hermione questioned, surprised. She looked Harry up and down and couldn't detect any lingering maladies or injuries that would keep him confined to the infirmary.
"Madame Pomfrey is ecstatic to have him back." Harry said with a laugh at her confused face. "Sirius apprenticed under her back when he attended school."
Hermione was slightly flabbergasted at that information. Sirius had healer training? She always assumed that his career goals had been more combative than within the medical sphere. Although, he did have a nurturing streak that she should have accounted for. When she gave it more than a moment's thought she realized that it fit him surprisingly well.
"I know! It's completely bonkers." Ron said, voicing her own thoughts.
"Well, maybe not completely. But it is a surprise." She half agreed. "So, he's been assisting her since we got back to the castle?"
"Yes, I have." Answered a rumbling voice that had goosebumps crawling up her arms and lifting the hair at the back of her neck. Hermione turned to look at the tall man who stood in the divide of the curtains.
Sirius observed them with stern eyes that caught the late morning rays filtering through the tall, ornate castle windows, and set them alight, like moons reflecting the sun.. He had his arms crossed over a well fitted black silk button down as he eyed them.
"I think you've been here long enough." He chided Harry and Ron. "Hermione is still recovering. She needs rest."
Harry just nodded, his ears turning a burnt looking red as he and Ron stood up to leave.
"See you, Hermione." Harry called as they left, keeping his eyes downcast as he passed his godfather.
All of a sudden, Hermione felt nervous being left alone with felt very small under his gaze, like she had gone back in time to when her parents would catch her reading with a flashlight under her sheets well past her bedtime. Which was ridiculous, it was only Sirius after all.
She attempted to swallow her nervousness and started to speak. "Sirius –"
"Poppy, she's awake." He called over his shoulder, glancing away from her.
Hermione felt herself shrink in on herself, her stomach clenching. He was angry at her. Furious even. His quiet anger was worse than when he yelled. She had hoped to never be on the receiving end of it. She stared at her lap as Madame Pomfrey came to attend to her.
She only answered the questions that were asked of her, and swallowed the foul tasting potions that were passed her way without so much as a complaint. Though she couldn't contain her facial expressions when she drank a particularly bad one. And, if her long bout of unconsciousness and still sore scar didn't tip her off to how bad her condition was, the ten or so concoctions that Pomfrey and Sirius insisted she drink sure did.
She distracted herself by watching Sirius assist Madame Pomfrey with a practiced ease she wouldn't have expected from him. He handed off supplies as though he could read the nurse's mind and followed her instructions as if he had been doing it all his life. Pomfrey looked very pleased, almost content, as they worked in tandem. Once they finished up and she was walking away with the rest of the medical supplies, she reached up and patted Sirius' cheek and gave him, what Hermione could only describe as, a motherly smile.
Once Pomfrey was out of view, Sirius turned to look at her. His stare made her want to throw the blanket over her head to be out of his sight. After a moment he fell into the chair that Harry had occupied earlier. He sank into a slouch, his long legs stretched out, and his arms folded; one long finger tapping against his arm.
Hermione couldn't keep her eyes on him as he watched her, and she fidgeted with the folds of the blanket that was draped over her legs.
"Sirius." She said, unable to handle his silence any longer. "I'm glad you're alright."
This was apparently the wrong thing to say. Sirius' face turned thunderous. His brows tilted down, creasing in the middle, and a muscle in his jaw popped out as he clenched his teeth.
"I'm not the one who you should be concerned about, Hermione." He said, his tone pitched low. "You've been unconscious for two days."
"I know. I'm sorry…"
"You're 'sorry'?" He asked, his voice building strength. "You're 'sorry'?! Hermione, what were you thinking? You could have died! You almost did! Harry told me that if you hadn't silenced that Death Eater you probably would have!"
"I know. I know! But we couldn't find you. You didn't answer the mirror call, and when we tried the floo, Kreacher said you were gone, and there was no one we could turn to!"
"So, what?" He growled out between his teeth. "You should have stayed at the castle. You and Harry and Ron and the others had no business going to the DOM and attempting that half baked rescue mission!"
"But what if the Death Eaters actually had you? Were we supposed to just do nothing?" Hermione felt herself get defensive.
"YES!" He exploded at her. He reached out and grabbed her arms and shook her a little. He stared her down and huffed out an agitated breath that flared his nostrils like an angry bull. "Yes. Hermione, my life isn't worth you and Harry sacrificing yours. How could you have done something so reckless? You of all people should have been able to weigh the risks and realized that it wasn't worth it."
Something hot, curdled in Hermione's chest. Her hands reached up and gripped his wrists. She didn't shake him off of her, she just squeezed, her body reacting in anger.
"You don't get to decide what you are worth to us." She seethed back at him. "If you had been there and we hadn't done something, anything, how do you think we would have been able to carry that guilt with us the rest of our lives?"
"Really?! And if you had died? How do you think I'd be able to live with that?" He vollied back at her, his grip turning almost bruising as a frantic edge soured his voice further. "I've lost everyone, Hermione. I lost half of my life. Do you really think I could keep going if I lost you or Harry? I can't lose my family again, Kitten. I can't do it. When I saw you laying there…I almost lost my mind." Tears glossed over his eyes and reminded her of a drop of varnish atop an oil painting. He leaned into her, his head bent to press his forehead into her shoulder as his hand loosened and slipped to hold her arms. "I couldn't even go to you. Harry had run after Bellatrix and I had to find him. I felt like my chest had been ripped in half."
Hermione felt the hot coal of anger at his hypocrisy cool, like it had been plunged into ice water. She let go of his wrists and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, stroking him up and down his spine. The shuddering breaths she felt under her palms and against her shoulder reminded her of the first time she had held him, and it broke her heart, just as it did then.
"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Sirius." She whispered into his shoulder, her own eyes welling with the sudden weight of his anxiety and fear. It didn't change her mind, though. She would always choose to save him. Just as she knew he'd always choose to save them. "But, Sirius…You aren't disposable, either."
He hung onto her tighter, like he couldn't bear to let her go, and she knew that he was imagining the worst. He had already seen it, and he desperately didn't want to see it again. "I will take a disposable life if it keeps you and Harry safe." He mumbled into her shoulder.
She decided not to press the issue further. Sirius was hurting, and that was enough to soften her heart.
They sat like that for a while before her injury started pinching, causing her to wince. Not one to miss something obvious, Sirius let her go and eased her back into her pillows.
"What now?" She asked as she turned onto her side to look at him. "You're practically free."
Sirius sighed deeply and drummed his fingers against the side table.
"That remains to be seen." He said with a frown. "They're trying to keep my involvement quiet for the moment, though Tonks and Kingsley are doing their best to foil their efforts."
"They aren't going to pretend that they don't know you're innocent now, right?" She asked anxiously.
"At this point there are too many witnesses for that to work. Besides they want to question me about the Veil too badly for them to throw me back in Azkaban. No, they'll issue the pardon. But discreetly. My freedom will be a footnote in these events, and that will ensure that it will be paltry at best." He gave her a grim smile along with his words, and Hermione could feel his hopelessness.
Freedom on paper, but without the public knowing of his exoneration and the truth of his imprisonment would mean little change in his life. He would technically be free to walk down the street, but socially, he would still be an escaped convict. He would be practically trapped in Grimmauld for the rest of his life.
But Hermione had no intention of taking that fate lying down. The Prophet had failed the public too many times. After all the lies, slander, covering and warping the truth, it had now become undeniable and unavoidable and the whole charade that the reporters and the Government had been upholding came down like a deck of cards in a stiff breeze. They were eager to sweep anything they could under the rug and salvage any scrap of dignity even if the price was a man's life.
"Our friend Luna Lovegood." She started, unable to bear the look of resignation on his face. "Her father runs the Quibbler. You've met her a couple of times now. She'll make sure that your story gets out there."
Sirius looked at her for a moment before his face cracked into a genuine smile. One that had her stomach flipping inside of her. He was beautiful, but when he had hope, he was radiant.
Sirius paced the hallway. The terribly and ugly marble statue of a griffin watched him with annoyed stone eyes as he continued his dizzying path but refused to speak the password that would give him entry to the office above.
The fact of the matter was, Sirius was furious. He wanted to go up to the headmaster's office and lay into the old wizard every cruel epithet and moniker he had ever heard or could think of and toss him out the window with a bouncing spell and just watch as he butt up against every tree and hill.
That was the wrong approach, which is why he was eroding the stone under him. He had to be at least coherent, if not calm, when he addressed Dumbledore. Otherwise the sly old man would be able to pull something on him.