"That's… not possible," the girl, Hermione, said weakly. Her hands raised to grip her hair hard. "This has to be in my head." Closing her eyes tight, she smacked the side of her head. Muttering to herself, "It's 1997, I'm in the Malfoy manor and this is just another game to get in my head!"

Sirius snatched her hands as gently as he could and pulled them away from her head. Trying to focus on calming her down rather than the total bombshell she landed. She was from over 20 years in the future! And she knew him? What was that about Malfoy manor? Suddenly his blood was cold and hot at the same time.

"Hermione, Love, you are really here," he stroked her hands with his thumbs. But by this time she was in hysterics and pulled away from him.

"No! Stay away from me!" She pressed as far back away from him as possible, nearly falling off the bed if Madame Pomfrey hadn't caught her. The nurse quickly waved her wand over Hermione and the girl's eyes snapped shut, and her body went entirely lax. With the help of Sirius, the matron settled the girl back on the bed and began waving her wand and unstoppering phials.

"Headmaster, I think it'd be best if you left things here for tonight." Her voice was tight and left no room for argument. Dumbledore bowed his head and with a small smile rose. Dismissing the armchair he faced Sirius.

"I believe we have much to discuss, Mr Black. But for now we will hold off for a better time. Good night." Then he left, the same way he came. Majestic purple robes billowed as he walked.

Sirius turned back to Hermione and lifted her scarred arm and with the now tepid water, started dabbing away the fresh blood leaking from the wound. He swallowed thickly. The Malfoy's? Of course it had to be his family, even if they were an extended branch.

"Mr. Black, you should head on up. You have classes in the morning," said Pomfrey, her voice still had an edge but Sirius knew, for once, it wasn't directed at him.

"Can finish her arm first?" he pleaded, looking up at the matron's maternal figure. He could tell by her soft brown eyes that she was conceding. Her pursed lips relaxed and she swallowed.

"Oh, alright. But, you are to leave as soon as you finish, Mr. Black!"

He smiled his most flirtatious smile and winked at her. Allowing some of his normal humor to bleed through, for the first time since he encountered a dying girl on the 7th floor.

Although Sirius kept his promise to return to his dorm, he didn't sleep. He couldn't stop thinking of the girl. Hermione, he reminded himself. He worried that something might have happened overnight. He worried about her mental state. He worried that he might never get to see her or get answers. The various expressions on her face also kept him up. How she knew him, his presence was comforting to her because she knew him, but then the terror on her face when she became unsure, when she questioned the reality she was in. He hated the look of terror on her face. He wasn't stupid, he knew, she had been tourtured. Even if it made him sick he morbidly wanted to know the extent of that tourture. He wanted to know everything he could about her.

He got up a little bit before breakfast would be served. Having showered before going to bed, he ran straight down to the Hospital Wing. Only to be turned away at the door.

"Mr. Black, I appreciate that you are concerned, but not much has changed and there is nothing to be gained by you coming in this morning," Madame Pomfrey said in exasperation. Despite her earlier concessions to the worried young man, she was not allowing him to change her mind today. "You may come back once your classes are finished." She then shut the door in his face.

Disappointed and frustrated, he made his way to the Great Hall. Slumping at his usual seat he waited until the table blossomed with breakfast foods. Grabbing some toast and a large cup of coffee, he waited in silence until his friends showed debating on how much to tell them as he spread butter across a slice. On one hand, he never kept secrets from his friends, but on the other hand this secret wasn't his own. It also seemed much bigger and over his head than anything else he had shared with the guys. He didn't realize how long he had been staring at the table in his own thoughts, until a tall sandy haired boy dropped down in the seat next to him, as well as a messy, black haired boy across from him.

"What's up with you? You're never up this early, Padfoot," James Potter looked at him quizzically, as he piled his plate with eggs and sausage. "Did you get around to spiking Slytherin's pumpkin juice with the drowsy-draft last night?"

He stared at his friends for a moment, not comprehending what they were asking for a moment before he remembered the original point of his wandering around the castle late at night. "No...something happened," he said, clearing his throat and taking a sip of the now lukewarm coffee. Watching their curious faces over the rim of his mug. "I found a girl passed out on the 7th floor. She was in a right state. I ended up carrying her to Madame Pomfrey."

They looked surprised. James' mouth hung open, full of egg. He didn't even notice when a pretty redhead walked past him.

"What? Who was it? Someone from Gryffinndor?" Asked Remus.

"No, I didn't recognize her," Sirius said, deciding to leave off all information he knew about her circumstances before he found her. There was no point in pretending she didn't exist though.

"Well, is she going to be okay?" asked James, pushing his glasses up and leaning on his elbow. "I mean, Poppy can fix anything, right?"

The image of Hermione's bulging eyes, ridged, jerking body, and the sound of her choking on her own blood, came unbidden to the front of Sirius's brain. He shuddered.

"I don't know. Like I said, she was in a state," he said quietly. He was thankful that James's attention was grabbed when he finally noticed the redhead a little ways down the table. He didn't really want to have to describe the state he found Hermione in.

"Oi! Alright there, Evans?" he called with a cheeky grin in her direction.

"I was until you ruined it, Potter!" Lily Evans was James's soulmate. Or at least that's what he'd tell you. James has had a crush on the girl for the longest time. Dating back until at least third year, if not longer. Sirius suspected that it really started in first year, but at that point the boy's hadn't really started noticing the charms of the fairer sex.

Professor McGonagall, Head of Gryffindor House started handing out their timetables, starting at the far end of the table, right as a shorter, slightly thicker boy with blond hair came skidding in to sit next to James.

"Thank Merlin! I made it!" Huffed the boy, cheeks flushed and blue eyes bright.

"Calm down, Pete. What's the hurry?" asked Remus after tipping his head back to take a last swig of his tea.

Sirius stopped paying attention to his friends as he was momentarily distracted when a light hand grazed him across the shoulders and a sultry voice whispered in his ear, "Wanna meet up in the usual broom cupboard after dinner tonight?"

When Sirius looked up he was unsurprised to see Marlene McKinnon, sparkling blue eyes, and long, shiny, blond hair. Marlene was the prettiest girl in his year and a long standing snogging partner of his. There weren't any feelings involved, it was just a way to use up some of the pent up hormones. But now, having spent his whole summer with the Potter's and seeing James' parents, so content and loving with each other, so at odds with how his own parents were, made him ache in a way he didn't know he could. Sirius felt uncomfortable. It seemed silly to think that he had never realized that kind of relationship was possible and he realized that he wanted it, that kind of devotion. He wanted someone who was wholly his person.

The last couple of years he had steadily developed a reputation as a playboy, flitting between girls in empty classrooms and deserted cupboards. Beyond the heat of the moment, it always left him feeling sort of empty, which had always had him coming back for more; chasing that initial thrill and intimacy. But, looking at Marlene now, with her perfectly curved body, her long fingers fiddling with the hair at the nape of his neck, he didn't see what the Mr and Mrs. Potter had. Not even what James' and Evans had. It made him realize that meeting with her didn't hold any lasting appeal.

"I have somewhere to be after dinner, Mar," he said, knowing that he would have to eventually cut things off with her officially. For now, though, at the beginning of term he didn't feel like stirring up the pot, so to speak.

The boy's at the table were all sending him surreptitious looks over their plates of food. Except for Peter, who was gaping outright at him.

"Oh," said Marlene, her smile losing a little of its luster. "I suppose some other girl snagged you first. Well, never mind then, another time." She leaned down and kissed his cheek. With a little wave to the rest of the table she walked away, the sway in her hips a little too pronounced to be natural.

"What was that about, Sirius?" asked Remus, looking at him with a raised eyebrow.

"Yeah, never known you to turn down a pretty bird. Especially when that bird is as pretty as Marlene," Peter said, with a small amount of reproach in his voice. A twinge of jealousy and dissatisfaction colored his face for a moment. Peter was a kind soul but not particularly gifted with attracting ladies. At least not like Sirius, or even James and Remus.

James, although handsome; tall, a strong build, easy, confidant smile, and unruly, short, black hair; Gryffindor's best chaser, and well liked by most of the student body; was widely known for having his eyes set solely on Lily Evans. Thus, girls had mostly given up on trying. Remus was also well regarded by the female population. He was intelligent, eager to lend a hand to anyone, had baby-blue eyes, and was tall, with a thin, elegant frame. Although he was friendly and kind to all, he remained aloof for reasons the general populations of the castle were unaware of. His friends, though, knew it was out of misplaced, self depreciation over being afflicted with lycanthrope. As often as his friends assured him that he wasn't some monster, they could never get him to see differently.

Sirius himself was considered roguish, with that rugged appeal that most girls had a thing for. Even if they wouldn't admit it. His dark hair, grey eyes, strong aristocratic features, along with the fact that he was the black sheep (no pun intended) of his prestigious family, made him seem like a hero from one of their knut-store romance novels. The ones with a swooning woman being held up by a shirtless man on the cover. It also helped that as one of the Gryffindor quidditch team's beaters. That provided him with a strong physique of broad shoulders and cut arms. Most girls would at least make eyes at him when he walked by and in previous years he made good use of this.

Peter, by contrast was short, with a fairly average build that leaned towards pudgy with wide blue eyes and blond hair. It wasn't necessarily that he was unattractive, it was more that he lacked any confidence, and one could see it when he was walking with his group of friends when he kept his head at a slight downward tilt, and open his mouth to cut in but closed it when he failed at generating enough force to get his voice heard among them. He was sweet, though, and sensitive and most girls who ended up spending time with him ended up endeared to him.

Sirius cleared his throat, glancing away from the retreating back of Marlene to look at his friends. "I was going to go to the infirmary."

"To see the bird you found?" asked James.

"Yeah, I want to see how she's doing," he shrugged like it was no big deal. Even though it was a big deal. He didn't think he'd sleep again tonight if he didn't check in on Hermione.

"We'll come with you," said Peter excitedly as McGonagall came and passed them their timetables. He was obviously curious about the whole mystery behind the girl on the 7th floor.

"I don't think that's a good idea. She seemed pretty traumatized. I don't think a crowd of strangers by her bedside would help," Sirius said. Although true, he also didn't know if Hermione knew his friends in the future. She reacted so strongly to him and Dumbledore that he was concerned at giving her more of a shock than she could handle.

"I guess that makes sense," replied Peter, looking a little chastised. Sirius was about to reassure him but Peter asked about everyone's timetable.

Turns out they all had similar schedules, which was the usual, with maybe one or two classes a day seeing them spread out around the castle. Predictably they had Potions and Defence with the Slytherin sixth years, which despite not being a surprise, had all of them moaning in indignant dissatisfaction.

It just so happened that their first class was Potions and they walked together towards the dungeons complaining the whole time.

Sliding into their seats in the back of the classroom, Sirius looked around, the class had largely the same crowd thus far as their previous years, with the occasional 'new' face. As expected Lily sat next to an oily haired, hooked nosed boy from Slytherin that had James (who was sitting next to him) sneering and muttering under his breath. Snape. The git. He had an annoying habit of following them around to try and get them expelled, and this included trying to oust Remus' furry little problem to the school at large the previous year. Sirius thought of the incident, a bit chagrined. He had, in retaliation to the veiled threats, stupidly baited Snape into nearly killing himself. He had told Snape the secret to getting past the Whomping Willow to the Shrieking Shack where Remus transformed, not really considering that the greasy haired boy might actually succeed in bypassing the tree and nearly kill himself by approaching a fully transformed werewolf on the full moon.

Luckily, James, in one of his rare moments of rational thinking in regards to his long time rival, stepped in and saved his life. It didn't endear any of the boys involved to each other. Neither did the oath that Snape had to take to keep the incident and Remus' lycanthrope a secret. It just added fuel to their loathing. Despite feeling guilty at the potential disastrous outcome, Sirius still mostly felt a burning anger at Snape for trying to use Remus' affliction against him. And really, if you really thought about it, Snape should have known better. Even if he was supplied with the information to follow Remus to the Shrieking Shack, who went after a werewolf alone like that? He was as just to blame as Sirius was, if not moreso.

The git he was just thinking about turned in his seat to sneer up at them, right as Prof. Slughorn came in to begin the lesson.

By the time dinner rolled to an end, Sirius was quite anxious to get to the Hospital Wing. His stomach rolled with pent up energy and as soon as his plate was cleared he booked it to the infirmary.

Madame Pomfrey seemed to be expecting him as he opened the door. She stood up from her stooped position at the girls bedside that was mostly hidden by the mint green privacy curtains and walked over to him. Her eyes looked tired and she sighed when she stopped by him, which made his heart race in concern. In all honesty, he was surprised that she was allowing him to visit at all, the matron was known for kicking everyone but the ill out of the infirmary.

"Ah, I was expecting you," she said, beckoning him to follow her over to the privacy curtain. "She had a couple nasty turns overnight and earlier today, but I can finally say she's stable."

She reached over and pulled the privacy curtain open wide enough for the two of them to step in. She let him sit at the bedside chair and he let out a long breath when he looked at the sleeping girl on the bed.

He wasn't sure what he was expecting when he saw her again. Hermione was cleaned up and in soft powder blue hospital clothes. He let out a small huff of laughter when he examined her hair. The night before it was impossible to tell, with it being drenched down, but her hair was a soft brown at first glance, but upon closer examination it was a complex mass of strands ranging from, chocolate brown, gold, copper, to brassy. Beyond the color, the main thing to notice was that it was a huge mane of riotous curls that engulfed the pillow she rested on. To him she looked like her head was resting on a mass of golden roses. He wondered what it would be like to bury his hands in those curls.

He examined her further and had the small satisfaction to see that most of her superficial wounds were healed. Her face was free of any cuts or bruises, although her face was drawn and thin with dark shadows under her eyes. The only outward wounds he could see was her wrapped arm and a bandage across the side of her neck.

"Is she going to be ok?" He asked Madame Pomfrey, looking away from the girl on the bed.

"It'll be a long recovery," she answered regretfully. Her face was a tender reflection of her concern. "I've never seen such brutality."

Despite his curiosity, Sirius found himself hesitating to ask exactly what was done to her. Curiosity won out.

"It's not my place to tell you, Sirius," she replied. He was hoping for a different answer, but knew he'd be able to find out. He planned on sneaking in sometime in the night to read Madame Pomfrey's notes. "Now that you've seen that she's fine, I insist you head back out and go about your evening. I'm sure you already have homework to do." Her brisk tone had returned.

"But, Poppy! When is she going to wake up," Sirius exclaimed. He wasn't expecting to get kicked out as soon as he got a glimpse of Hermione.

"Not for a while yet. Now out you go!" she ushered him to the door. Nearly frog marched him.

"I can come back tomorrow, though, can't I?" he asked, giving his best puppy eyes. She tisked at him.

"Mr. Black, I have been very understanding towards you during this whole debacle since it was a great shock to you. But, I must insist that you let her rest in peace." Yeah, like that would stop him. He'd come see Hermione whether the matron allowed it or not. Sirius wasn't a Marauder for nothing.

He retreated for now and headed back to Gryffindor common room. When he entered through the portrait hole he found his friends sitting around the fire in their favorite couches and armchairs. Sirius flopped across an empty loveseat and let his legs hang over the armrest. One arm resting across his eyes.

"Hey Pads, how's your mystery girl?" asked James looking up from his transfiguration textbook.

"Better, still unconscious though," Sirius replied, frustration bleeding through his voice. "Poppy kicked me out right after letting me get a look at her." He breathed out his nose in a loud huff.

"I'm surprised that Madame Pomfrey even let you visit," said Remus. He and Peter were playing a precarious game of wizards chess, where the chessboard teetered, propped up on a throw pillow between them.

"She said something about letting me because of how much of a shock it was."

"Was it really that bad?" asked Peter looking up from his pawn that just got thrown off the board by a vindictive bishop.

"Yeah, it was really that bad," Sirius said, trying to keep the images out of his head. "Hey Prongs, can I borrow the cloak tonight?"

"Planning on breaking into the infirmary, Pads?"

"Yep!" Sirius popped the 'p' and sat up quickly. "I'd just use the map, but there's something I want to check out that the cloak would come in handy for." He reached into his bag and pulled out his transfiguration textbook and turned to chapter one.

"Sure, you can borrow it. But, you gotta help us plan our next prank tomorrow. The first of the year got put on hold because of this girl- not that I'm blaming you, mind- but we have a reputation to uphold!" The boy's all laughed. Remus shook his head in mock dismay.

"Oi, Black!" Called someone coming down from the girl's dormitory. It was Lily Evans. Sirius looked up at her with a raised eyebrow.

"Oi, back at you, Evans," he said with a smirk.

"What did you do to Marlene? She's been sulking since this morning and the only explanation I can figure has to do with you," she sneered at him like he was a particularly nasty piece of gum on her mary janes.

Sirius scoffed, propping his elbow up on the armrest and resting his cheek on his fist. "She asked to meet after dinner for a snog, and I told her I had plans." He shrugged his free shoulder. "Not my fault she got her panties in a twist for not getting her way."

Lily scowled, and crossed her way to the portrait hole, muttering about rakes.

James popped up from his seat and tried to follow her. "Hey, Lils! Where you heading? Want me to walk you?"

"No, thanks. I don't need a toerag following me about." And with that she exited the common room. James looked simultaneously crestfallen and utterly smitten.

Remus just laughed and shook his head at the look on James' face. "Mate, you are so hopeless."

That night, Sirius slipped out of the common room underneath James' invisibility cloak and made his way down to Infirmary. He took care to keep his footsteps extra quiet, Mrs. Norris, Flich's - the Hogwarts caretaker - feline sidekick was not easy to fool even with the cloak, and Peeves, the Poltergeist, was surprisingly keen when mischief was afoot. The prefects he passed were of little concern to him, he knew their routes better then them and he knew hiding places they did not in the event that something happened that he needed to hide.

When he finally reached the Hospital Wing he took a deep breath. Carefully, remembering the squeaky hinge on the left double door. Casting a quick unlocking charm, he opened the right door, closing it silently behind him. He tiptoed over to Hermione's bedside and looked her over.

She seemed mostly the same. Her face was slightly pinched, from the pain potion wearing off or from a nightmare, he did not know. He slid the cloak off, feeling pretty safe behind the privacy curtain. He sat on the edge of the bed, and unable to help himself he reached over to brush a couple of errant curls away from her face. They were so soft. He leaned back and took her hand in his, tracing his thumb over her knuckles. Her face relaxed at the contact, making him assume it was a nightmare after all.

He wasn't sure why he felt the incessant need to watch over her. Having never met her before, his investment in her well being was probably excessive. But, he couldn't help but think about how she reacted to him. Like he was someone dear to her. She was so relieved to see him, she cried over his apparent survival. Maybe for his young, love starved heart, it was something to grab hold of. For all his popularity, the number of people he had as loved ones was pitifully small. It wasn't even until this past summer he even lived in a house where he wasn't despised and unwanted. And even then, the insecurities that told him that one wrong move would make the Potter's abandon him, would rear their ugly head in the quiet moments and make him doubt. It wasn't fair to them. They thought of him as their own, and he thought of them as his real parents; but having been, more or less, abandoned by his birth family left scars. Everyday he spent with the Potter's would lessen the nagging voice in his head, but it never seemed to go away entirely.

He stared at her bandages. One long one wrapped around her arm, the one he tended to himself, and the small gauze on the side of her neck. Both were tinged red, indicating that the blood had started to bleed through. The letters on her forearm started to appear on the top layers of cotton in red. Putting the cloak back on he walked out of the privacy curtain and went to the supply cupboard behind Madame Pomfrey's desk. He first looked over the desk and then opened drawers until he found what he was looking for. A file with the name Hermione written on it in a loopy script. Pulling it out he started reading through it. His face went white.

Sept. 2, 1976

Nurse: Poppy Pomfrey

Patient: Hermione ?

Age: 16 (according to diagnostic)

Patient was brought in by Sirius Black at 3:17am.

Preliminary diagnostic spell readings:

Extreme dehydration and malnutrition

Anemia

Signs of forceful Legilimancy

Signs of common cold

Rib fractures

L: 5-12

R: 7-10

Healing ankle fracture

never set, calcification forming around talus dome and inferior fibula

Intentional disfigurement via cursed knife

right anterior triangle of neck, approx 2 inches in length, not life threatening

left anterior forearm

Spells MUDBLOOD

Bruising on inner thighs and breasts

Fingerprint pattern unidentified

No sign of sexual assault going further

Signs of curse wounds (not all congruent with current event)

Unknown healed curse scarring along rib cage on R side

Unknown curse scarring around R ovary, uterus.

Sectumsempra curse wounds around deltoids and upper back

Root cause of near exsanguination

No permanent scarring

Potential cause of frequent seizures along with:

Cruciatus curse

Indications of extended use

Nerve damage

Myelin sheath damage (potential cause of seizures)

Mental damage (unknown extent, patient needed to be sedated)

Time Sand embedded in skin of chest

Unable to remove - further study needed

Healing Administered:

Initial actions taken:

Three blood replenishing potions

A coagulant potion

Anti-epilptic potion

Sedating spell

Manually stopping blood loss from cursed blade wounds

Pain reliever

Once Stable:

Rebroke ankle and removed calcification - set properly

Administered skele-gro for ribs and ankle

Sealed cuts on upper back with essence of dittany

Used an anti-scarring salve after wounds closed

Used a nerve pain blocker potion

Myelin Return potion to help regrow the myelin sheath

Recommending 2 doses per day for 4 months.

General nutrient replenishing potions

Recommended course of action:

Patient should remain in infirmary for at least 4 weeks for observation.

Areas to watch for:

Signs of PTSD

Seizures

Further weight loss

Watching for unexpected symptoms from cursed object wounds

Stitches for forearm wound (practice needed - bit rusty on muggle healing techniques)

Observe Time Sand

By the end the time Sirius finished reading he was taking large gasping breaths to squash his growing horror and rage. What kind of future was it that there were people who would do this. Twenty years from now, was the war that is currently brewing still happening? Did it escalate so far that a 16 year old girl would be attacked and tortured for information?

The memory of her confused ramblings crossed his mind

"I keep telling her...we don't have it!"

Goosebumps rose on his skin.

Putting the notes away, exactly as he found them, Sirius made his way to the supply cupboard and gathered up bandages and salves. Once he had what he needed he glided over to the partitioned bed. Slipping off the cloak again, he sat by her bedside and began to slowly unwrap the gauze on her arm.

Once it was uncovered he was disheartened to find that it didn't look any better. Although, he reasoned with himself. Poppy's notes mentioned her needing stitches. He quietly summoned a small jet of water and filled the bedside basin with warm water and took a clean cotton cloth and dipped it in. Ever so gently, Sirius dabbed away at the blood, throat thick. The cuts looked raised around the edges and warm to the touch, hoping it was just swelling rather than a sign of infection. Sirius concentrated hard as he spread ointment over the jagged letters.

Once the marks were covered with bandages, Sirius looked up to start working on her neck, only to freeze. Her eyes, the color of cherry wood in the dark, were open and watching him. He gave a start and stared back. Tears gathered around the corners of her eyes but she didn't make a sound.

Panicking, at the sight of a crying girl, Sirius rushed to say something. "Shh, it's ok. It's ok. I promise I'm not here to hurt you. I just wanted to check on you and then I noticed your bandages were dirty and since it's late and Poppy is asleep I thought it was best that I change them. You know since I was here and all. I really won't hurt you, you know," he was rambling and he knew it. Her face was stone-like despite the tears and it was making him nervous. Mental damage and PTSD flashed in his mind.

"Your hair is pretty," he blurted out, wincing. Brilliant, Pads.

You know, for the biggest playboy this castle has ever seen since probably Godric himself, he wasn't up to his regular standards of suave.

But, somehow that did something. Hermione let out a choked giggle that sounded like Christmas to Sirius. She reached out her hand and grabbed his, gripping it like it was her lifeline.

"Are you really Sirius?" if it weren't for the complete silence they were in he wouldn't have heard her.

"Yeah, I am, Kitten," he didn't know where the nickname came from. Though, she did resemble a little fluffy kitten, with her big eyes and wild hair, curled in on herself. The nickname just happened to come unbidden from his lips. And by the increase of tears, he figured it was a mistake.

He didn't get to apologize before she suddenly sat up. He didn't miss the grimace on her face at the sudden movement and before he could stop her, he had a nose full of soft curls. She hugged him and cried into his shoulder. His arms came up to hold her around the shoulders, palms flat.

"Merlin, it is you. You're the only one to ever call me that ridiculous nickname. I never even figured out why you called me that," she sniffed and held him tighter. "Is it really 1976?"

"Yeah."

"Then you aren't even really my Sirius." She sounded upset at this, but she didn't let go.

My Sirius

That made something drop in his stomach.

"I guess you could see it that way," He murmured. "But, unless I'm mistaken, I'm him and he is me. So, really, besides a few years what's the difference?"

She huffed, warm breath ghosting along his neck. "What a perfectly Sirius thing to say."

He bit back a barking laugh and instead snorted into her hair.

"You're also missing a ton of tattoos, a perfectly scruffy beard, a leather jacket, and some crow's feet."

"I can work on the tattoos if you want, and the beard. The leather jacket is up in Gryffindor tower, but the crow's feet are going to have to wait." It was her turn to snort. It vibrated into his neck.

All too soon she let go of him and pulled back. They studied each other in the dark. He wanted to ask so many questions. About her. About what happened. About who hurt her (he tried not to go down that line of thought. The moral grey area of finding retribution for actions that technically haven't taken place, yet having the evidence of their crimes in front of him, frustrated and enraged him.) He wanted to ask about the future, about himself, his friends. He knew he died sometime in her life and apparently it was a traumatic event for her, given how she reacted to him. It struck him that he was nearly 20 years older than her, technically. How odd. He wondered about their relationship. How they knew each other and in what capacity. Was he like an uncle to her? A father figure? An older friend? But, looking at her, her file flashing fresh in his mind, he decided that he better hold off.

Eventually, Sirius reached out to her neck and she flinched back. He swallowed and pulled back.

"I just want to change the bandage, is that ok?" He asked, searching her eyes for any sign of fear. She just nodded.

Carefully, just as he had with her arm, he tended to her neck. Once finished, Sirius vanished the mess and rose to leave, bidding Hermione goodnight. She grabbed his hand again. Warmth filled him from the familiar, yet foreign action.

"I need to talk to Dumbledore." He went stiff. He gripped her hand, tight. He knew that she would have to talk to him eventually, but he was reluctant. As much as he trusted Dumbledore's wisdom and intentions to do the right thing, he couldn't help the feeling that he wouldn't act in Hermione's best interest. She had information that could completely change how the war would go and, to him, that was more valuable than one teenage girl.

Sirius came back to her side and sat at the edge of her bed, taking her hand in both of his. He couldn't help but notice that her index finger was the same size as his pinky. She was so small, too small. Her frame emaciated.

"Not tonight, Kitten." Although it looked like she wanted to argue, she must have noticed his tension. She nodded. He helped her lay back down, grimacing when she let out pained sounds.

Once her head was on her pillow, she stared at him, looking somewhat unsure. He waited for her to speak.

"Can you stay? Just until I fall asleep?" She asked, biting her lip and glancing down at their hands. "I know you don't really know me, and I don't really know you, but…"

He interrupted her with his most flirtatious smile and said in a cheeky, teasing tone, "But how can you resist being around me? I'm not surprised that you want me, Kitten, I am after all, irresistible. I mean, with my luscious hair and perfect cheekbones, who would want too?"

She laughed, and he basked in the sound. So, used to seeing her on the brink of death, or delusional, or scared out of her mind. Her laughter felt like sunshine. His smile went from dashing to a soft and tender thing.

"I supposed, some things don't change, do they?" She chuckled and settled down. She watched him for a minute as he traced her palm, the lazy motions seemed to put her at ease. She seemed boneless and her eyes drooped. "You've always been so tactile," she murmured.

"Have I?" he asked softly, watching as she slowly drifted.

"Yeah, you were always ready with hugs," her voice slurred with sleep. "You liked to play with my hair, when I read." And like that, she was out like a light.

He reached over and tucked a stray curl behind her ear. Fiddling with the end.

"Yeah, I imagine I would."

Hi, Thanks so much for reading! Please leave a review if you enjoyed it, reading your comments really motivate me :)

Rosie