When Sirius arrived at Hermione's flat, Luna let him in. He stepped into the small flat and noticed Hermione, still in her jeans and sweatshirt, was sitting on her plush sofa, legs and arms crossed, staring ahead at a blank wall. Looking back at Luna, the blonde shrugged and closed the door behind him.
"I'll put on some tea, then," he muttered, squeezing past Luna into the kitchen.
"Make it coffee, actually," he heard Hermione call to him from the other room. He smirked at Luna who tried not to giggle.
"Long night ahead of you, or something," he called out conversationally.
"That's up to you," she snarked back. "Would you like me to go to bed instead?" He grimaced, conceding.
After the coffee was prepared, all three were sitting in Hermione's small living room nursing mugs of the hot caffeinated beverage. It was silent for a while, each focused on consuming their drink – Hermione with more difficulty than the others.
"What's wrong with it," Sirius asked, masking his insecurity with annoyance. "Did I not make it right?"
Decidedly not pouting, Hermione sat a little straighter and answered, "It's coffee. It tastes fine."
"Hermione hates coffee," Luna supplied. Hermione ignored her, taking a deep gulp and Sirius's expression softened.
"Well," he said, placing his mug on the cork coaster. "Luna, what's the prognosis?"
Nodding, the young blonde put her own coffee down and sat in front of Hermione on the coffee table.
"Hermione," she began carefully. "I'm going to use legilimency on you to try to locate the hypnotic spell. Is that okay?"
Hermione looked questioningly up at Sirius. "You couldn't do this yourself?"
"Figured you'd put up a fight before letting me into your head," he responded. "Luna already knows your secrets."
"I don't have secrets," she scoffed. "Not anymore, at least." Sirius joined Luna on the table, then.
"Fine, I'll do it."
"No," Hermione rushed, turning back toward her blonde friend and taking the girl's hands. Luna only glanced between the two Aurors with amusement before procuring her wand and preparing herself. Sirius was still sitting beside her on the table, watching intently, as Hermione's full attention was on the blonde.
"Ready?"
Hermione gulped and nodded, steeling herself. "Remember," Luna cautioned, "I'll not go looking for anything other than the spell, but you have to try not to block me if this is going to work." Hermione just nodded again, gripping her friend's hand tighter.
"Legilimens," Luna whispered.
Hermione's eyes widened by a fraction, becoming glassy, as though she was about to shed tears that never came. Sirius watched the scene with rapt attention, looking between the girls and gnawing on the dead skin of his thumb.
When Luna glanced back up and Hermione fell back against the couch, Sirius gestured for Luna to speak. Luna just looked straight at Hermione, who was very interested in her lap.
"Oh," Luna said, "yes." She looked up at Sirius. "It's in there fairly deep. The trigger is absolutely her falling asleep."
"Can we remove it," Sirius asked, looking between the girls.
"I don't actually know how," Luna stated, apologizing. "It's strong and it's really effective, and I wasn't able to see the method, so I wouldn't know which counter to use."
Sirius hauled himself off the table and began pacing fervently. "And we can't just fire counterspells at her?"
"It's worth a try," Hermione piped up. Luna shook her head.
"Like I said before, it's fairly deep in her mind. And because we don't know the method McLaggen used, we can't risk anti-hypnosis charms. They could cause more damage than letting the spell expire."
"In 24 hours," Sirius muttered.
"Actually, it's only about 20 or 19 hours now," Hermione pitched in, only slightly annoyed that neither Luna or Sirius were speaking to her, considering it was her head they were discussing.
Sirius's pacing stopped as he pondered Hermione, eyes roaming every inch of her face. She felt heat rising into her cheeks again, so she glanced over at Luna who was rifling through her bag.
"We basically have three options, now," Luna announced, willfully ignoring the tension. Both Sirius and Hermione turned to the blonde with a shared sense of hope. "First, you two can take the next 20 hours to work on your issues and move along on your case."
Sirius and Hermione both looked away from the girl, avoiding each other's gazes, feeling properly reprimanded.
"Or," Luna continued, "Hermione and I can plan Ginny's Bachelorette party." Sirius looked less enthused by this idea. "Or," Luna said again, pulling a long flat rectangular box out of her bag with a wide grin, "or we can play this muggle game my dad sent to me from his travels in America!"
The box was blue with white lettering spelling out the word "Clue."
Sirius cracked a wide grin, too, looking over at Hermione for her preference and hoping she'd choose the game. He had an affinity for Muggle games, and he hadn't had the chance to play this particular one yet. So, he rocked back and forth on his feet and pleaded silently with the angry witch.
She rolled her eyes and let out an exasperated "fine," as she slid bumpily off the couch onto the floor to sit at the low table. Luna and Sirius beamed at each other.
"Always anything to avoid talking about personal matters, with the two of you," Luna sang jauntily, while setting up the game's components. Hermione's face went red and Sirius just shrugged.
"I'll just put on another round of coffee," he called over his shoulder as he entered the kitchen once more.
By the third round of the game, it was only 2 in the morning, but they had finally figured out all the rules and intricacies, meaning Sirius and Hermione were ready to play competitively. Luna didn't care who won, as long as the murderer was sent to justice.
"Miss Scarlet, in the library, with the candlestick," Sirius said smugly; Hermione preened.
"You idiot," she sang, choosing to show him a card from her hand. His face fell as she continued. "And you're Chief Deputy?"
"At least I'm not some bloody arrogant rookie," he muttered, crossing an item off his game list.
Hermione huffed, glanced at the clock and rubbed her eyes.
"Why am I still awake, again," she groaned.
"Because you've been hypnotized," Luna supplied casually, also biting back a yawn.
"Yes, but why do we care?" Sirius silently turned to assess her, biting the inside of his cheek and turning his attention back to his clipboard.
Luna sighed. "That's my cue. Sirius," she asked as she stood. "Can I have a cigarette?" He blinked at her.
"You don't smoke, Lu." She shrugged and held her hand out regardless. Confused, Sirius placed the box of cigarettes in her hand and watched as she climbed out the window to the fire escape, closing the glass behind her.
"She thinks we need to talk," Hermione said, leaning her head back against the seat of the couch, eyes closed.
Sirius made a sort of noncommittal noise deep in his throat as he pretended to organize the cards in front of him.
"And what do you think," he asked.
"I think you're being entirely too stubborn. Romania makes sense."
Sirius bit his tongue. She continued.
"I mean, if you think I'm not worth my salt in ideas, just say so, I can handle it. You have turned down every good idea I've had and I'm starting to think you don't trust me."
"Don't trust you? This again," he barked, looking at her for the first time in several minutes. "I thought you got over this?"
"Well you did a nice job of soothing it over with words, Sirius, but your actions show otherwise."
"I trust you with my life, Hermione," he said, causing her to open her eyes and stare dumbly at him. "It's not that I don't trust your instinct. I trust it. And you're right. We have to move on Corabia if we plan to end them, but that's not our mission right now."
"Isn't it," she snapped. "Isn't the whole point of this to catch the bastards who did this to you?"
"No."
"It's always been the point, Sirius. Since before you even woke up! Harry and Dora and I were determined to make them pay, to put them away! This is our chance!"
"You're so smart, Hermione," he bit out. "Why don't you use that big brain of yours to understand that this is not how this works. You were given a case to solve; locate your missing persons and bag a few Death Eaters while you're at it. Maybe, if you can prove to Robards you can handle one little assignment, maybe then he'll give you the chance to take down the whole operation, but not now. Now we have missing muggleborns somewhere in Scotland and we need to find them. We need to focus on them."
Hermione was silently stewing. He lifted himself off the floor and went to the couch, pulling her up to sit with him on the more comfortable surface.
"The chances they're being held in Corabia are slim, Kitten. But if we get this done, and find them, I'll take you and a team to Romania and we'll smoke them out."
"You don't get to make that call," Hermione said.
"I might yet. Maybe we find something incredibly useful in Hogsmeade and Robards decides to decorate us?"
She tried not to, but a small smile crept up onto her face.
"I promise I trust you. I trust your skill, your intellect, your reflexes and your determination. But we need to take the ambition a bit slower, okay?"
She nodded her head and stood, murmuring about needing to use the loo.
Upon returning, she resumed her position on the sofa, a foot away from Sirius. She crossed her arms and looked over at him to get his attention. As soon as he looked at her, she looked away, playing with the ends of her hair.
"Can I still be mad at you for a bit?"
He chuckled. "You can do whatever you want, pet, just don't fall asleep, okay?"
She turned to meet his gaze. "I don't," she said softly.
"Don't what?"
"Already hate you."
He chuckled again and took her hand, squeezing it once and letting it go. "I know."
When Luna eventually returned, looking a little green in the face, the girls took some time to sit at the kitchen table and plan part of Ginny's Bachelorette party. They decided they'd have to confer with Lily in the morning and planned to head Potter-side for breakfast.
It was 5:30 a.m. when Hermione heard her flu activate. She stood to go answer when she heard Sirius answer it for her.
"Mr. Clegg, what can I help you with," she heard Sirius speak into the fire. She hurried into her living room, worried over what Penelope's husband would have to call about this early.
She reached the fireplace and dropped to her knees beside Sirius just in time to hear the man say he'd just remembered something.
"She wasn't feeling too good, Black. That was why she wanted to visit Hogsmeade. I told her to go see Pippins for a stomach settler or something, but she said the Magic Neep would have what she needed."
"But Mr. Clegg, Penelope never made it to the Magic Neep. Carla Bagely said the only person she recognized was Dennis Creevy," Hermione said. The man's fiery face turned toward her and startled.
"M'sorry Miss, I didn't see you; but she did go to the Neep," he said. "I've just found her invoice for fluxweed seeds. Bagely sent it by owl post the next day."
"Since when does the Neep send invoices by owl," Sirius questioned. "She's always asked for payment upon purchase."
"Mr. Clegg, do you mind if we step through to look at this invoice," Hermione kindly asked the man.
"You can keep it, even," he replied. "God knows I can't do anything with it."
Quickly, Clegg stepped aside to let the Aurors through, and walked them straight over to his kitchen table which was littered in unopened muggle mail. On top of one of the haphazard stacks was a parchment scroll. He took the piece and handed it directly to Hermione, who eyed Sirius skeptically, and unrolled the parchment.
Inside was a fairly official looking logo for the Magic Neep with a list of purchases dated the very day Penelope disappeared two months ago. It listed fluxweed seeds and a standard planting pot and a few pounds of enriched magical soil. Nothing out of the ordinary.
Below the itemized list of purchases was an outstanding balance of 12 Sickles and a Knut.
She handed the invoice to Sirius who looked through it just as quickly before rolling it back up and slipping it in the front pocket of his shirt.
"Clegg, did your wife often visit the Neep," Sirius asked him.
"No, sir. Pen's real gifted at charms and stuff but she always told me she was a right mess at herbology."
"So if I were to walk around this house, I wouldn't find any potting tables," Hermione inquired. Clegg shook his head.
"It's weird that Bagely would allow a customer to purchase supplies without paying up front, but I would have imagined she might have done it for a loyal and trusted customer," Sirius mused. "It's strange that she was neither. Do you mind if we poke around your home - nothing invasive. Just a cursory glance?"
"Sirius, we really ought to have a warrant first," Hermione started, but Clegg waved her off.
"Really, it's ok. I've nothing to hide."
Hesitantly, Hermione agreed and she and Sirius spent the next few minutes peeking into any room with a closed door and around the back garden. It appeared Clegg was right about Penelope's lack of gardening skills as their back garden was bare of anything useful, sprouting weeds from even the cracks in the walls.
When the two returned to Hermione's flat, Luna was strewn across the sofa, fast asleep. Hermione chuckled, but was interrupted by a large yawn.
Sirius glanced at the clock; seven in the morning. He slung an arm around the girl's shoulders and pulled her to him, dropping a kiss on her temple.
"Only eleven more hours, love," he murmured. She responded with a mutter of her own. "Let's go bug the Potters for breakfast."
One thing Hermione always admired about Lily and James Potter was their ability to read her mood and consequently refrain from asking uncomfortable questions.
The best example of this exemplary talent was when Hermione and Ron first broke up.
The Sunday Dinner immediately following the break up was the first Sunday Dinner Ron had missed since they all graduated Hogwarts. Since they had only broken up the night before, no one had even had any idea the split had occurred.
When everyone sat to begin the meal, Lily glanced over at the abnormally quiet girl, who in turn shot her mother-figure a very pointed look. Lily simply nodded and began the typical ceremony of handing out china and silverware. Hermione was impressed that not a soul had asked about Ron's whereabouts.
Thankfully, Hermione thought, the same sort of exchange occurred upon Sirius and Hermione's arrival at Potter Cottage that morning. When Hermione stumbled into the receiving room directly behind Sirius Black at seven on a Friday morning, Lily shot her a very confused and questioning look.
Hernione had only replied with a pointed glance toward her, and began dusting herself off. She completely missed the older woman's badly concealed smirk.
"What brings the two of you to my breakfast table," asked James, who sat at the table, wandlessly stirring his coffee, completely engrossed in the morning's Prophet.
"I'm actually famished," Sirius announced, throwing himself down at the table and filling a bowl of porridge with every berry known to man. Lily slapped his hand away from the honey jar, handing him a squeeze bottle of the stuff, instead, muttering about his messes.
"Luna will probably be by in a few minutes," Hermione said, finding a seat next to Lily and buttering a piece of toast. The bowl full of berries and porridge Sirius had put together found itself on the table in front of her.
"Eat up, Kitten," he commanded, not looking at her as he began preparing his own. Her cheeks were flaming as she caught the sidelong glance Lily gave her, smirk plain as day. She picked up her spoon and dug in, hoping to avoid any other unbidden looks.
"You're up early, Padfoot," James remarked, folding up his newspaper and taking a long drag of his coffee. Sirius, mouth full of porridge, only shook his head. He wiped his mouth with a paper towel before responding.
"Didn't sleep, Prongs."
James raised an eyebrow first at Sirius, who paid him no mind, then at his wife who simply mimicked his expression in response.
Looking at the clock, Hermione shoveled the last of her porridge in her mouth and stood, informing Sirius that they should be at the office soon. She thanked Lily for the wonderful breakfast and disappeared down the hall to the floo.
Sirius took one last, long swig of orange juice before saluting at James and following after her, calling out, "right behind you, Kitten!"
James turned to his wife again, and with furrowed brows mouthed the word "Kitten?" Lily simply shrugged.
Not five minutes later, Luna was falling into a seat of her own looking worse for wear. She was staring longingly at the mug of coffee in James's hands when Lily placed a fresh one in front of her. Luna smiled dreamily as she inhaled the steam.
"I'm glad you're both here! Hermione and I had a wonderful idea for the bachelor parties," she announced.
"Was there a party at Hermione's we didn't know about, or something," James wondered.
"Oh," Luna said, eyes wide. "Hermione got hypnotized. We had to keep her awake to prevent the trigger," she told them.
Lily slid a bowl of fruit in front of the wispy blonde. "Spill," she commanded. "Everything."
Since Bagely never met Hermione as an Auror, she and Sirius decided it would be a good idea to dress her up as a civilian and send her to the shop to see if she could make a purchase on credit. Sirius would be waiting for her just outside the shop in case she needed back up.
When Hermione entered the shop, Bagely was helping another customer, so she took the opportunity to glance around the shop. There were bottles of various different juices and other extracts, as well as small planting pots on one wall. Adjacent, there were stacks of larger pots and metal pot stands.
The floors were entirely covered by mismatched rugs, all covered in various degrees of spilled soil and mud from the village. Toward the edge of the far wall, however, there was one rug with a corner permanently curled up on the side closest to the wall.
That's funny, Hermione thought. Not much traffic over there to keep it kicked up.
Bagely cleared her throat, indicating to Hermione that the other patron had gone. She looked up at the store proprietor with a large smile.
"What can I do for you, Missy," Bagely chimed out, matching Hermione's expression with a kind smile of her own.
"I'm not much of an herbologist," Hermione started, apologetically, as she approached the store front. "But I've been having a wee bit nausea for a month and a friend suggested I get myself a steady supply of Fluxies to keep home to homebrew my nausea potion."
The shop lady looked sympathetic. "Pregnant," she asked. Hermione hesitated, but nodded anyway.
"Well lucky for you I've just got a new shipment of weeds. Did you want to plant them yourself, or would you prefer a pre-potted sprig to take home?"
"Prepotted would be marvelous, actually," Hermione said, a little surprised. Bagely nodded and disappeared in the back for a moment.
On reappearance, she was holding a small pot with a twig bearing only two bloomed leaves.
"This should take only a day to mature if you add some of my enhanced fertilizer, dear. Shall I add a pound of the stuff to your purchases?" Hermione nodded.
As the woman pulled out a burlap sack and charmed a spade to fill it with soil from the barrel behind her, Bagely turned and leaned over the counter, chin resting in her hand.
"Haven't seen you around town before," she said conversationally. "You new here?"
"No, not really," Hermione replied, leaning into the conversation. "I usually do all my shopping in Diagon. I did come into the village a lot as a kid, during Hogwarts visits, though."
Carla huffed out a chuckle and waved her free hand around. "You kids always look so different in your adulthood when you aren't running around in your school robes. What house were ya?"
Chuckling too, Hermione responded, "Gryffindor."
"Your hair, though, no offense my dear, but that would be familiar. You never needed to restock supplies for Pamona's class?"
"Oh no," Hermione chuckled. "I never took Herbology at NEWT level. And before that, my godmum sent me everything I needed."
Bagley raised an eyebrow. "Your parents didn't keep you supplied?"
Hermione gave her a tight look. "Muggles," she responded with a shrug. "Died before my sixth year."
Bagely's second eyebrow joined the first. "Sorry to hear that, dear. Good thing you've got a caring godmum, helped you out with your schooling and all," she said. The pound sack of fertilizer fell onto the counter between them. She took out a scroll of parchment and began tabulating the cost for Hermione.
"That's 10 Sickles, my dear," she said, pushing the invoice toward Hermione. Glancing at it, however, Hermione noticed Bagely's handwriting looked a little different from Penelope's invoice. Quickly, she decided she needed a better sample.
"Ma'am, you don't happen to know any good potion recipes specifically for pregnancy? Mungo's charges an arm and leg and refuses to share their recipe."
Carla laughed, muttering her agreement about the "damn healers."
Taking the opportunity, Hermione continued. "Would it be possible to send the invoice? My husband likes to pay for everything and he didn't give me his coin purse this morning," Hermione started.
The woman, who was busy jotting down her recipe, merely shook her head.
"All payment is expected at the time of purchase, no exceptions dear. If you need, I can store it for you while you apparate home for the money, but I only hold for an hour."
"That's fine, then. I've got some of my own silver here, he'll never need to know," Hermione gave her what she hoped was a conspiratory smile, but feared it resembled an embarrassed grimace.
They exchanged money and purchases and Hermione left the shop to find Sirius sitting on the stone wall, holding and petting a small pig as he spoke to a little boy.
"Who around here's been breeding pigs? Weird they'd just be running around town," Sirius was saying. The boy merely shrugged.
"They're weird for sure," the boy said. "Mum hates that I've kept these two, mostly because they won't eat like normal pigs. This one only wants tea and roast chicken."
Sirius chuckled, and gave the pig a scratch between the ears. He noticed Hermione and stood, handing the pig gently over to the young boy and patting his head, too. "Take care of those pigs," he called over his shoulder with a chuckle, and jogged up to help Hermione with her purchases.
"Godric, did you actually need to buy this stuff," He muttered, as he took the sack of fertilizer from her hands and shrunk it down to carry in his pocket.
"I thought the office could use some sprucing up," she whispered sardonically, causing him to look at her with unbridled amusement. She shoved the two parchments into Sirius's hands, indicating he needed to look.
"What's this," he asked, focusing on the recipe first.
"This," she said, dragging him to the apparition point, "is a recipe Bagely wrote for me for a pregnancy nausea potion. At Sirius's shocked expression, she sighed. "It was a cover, Sirius. I needed a better sample. Do you notice anything about it?"
Sirius focused once again on the parchment in his hands, reading the recipe from top to bottom, looking for anything Hermione could be referencing. Something finally caught his eye–
"Mandrake leaves," he questioned out loud, looking back at Hermione. She shot him a confused glance before grabbing his sleeve and apparating into their office.
"What," she asked as soon as she felt her feet hit the ground. Sirius shook himself out, hating the feeling of being dragged along on an apparition instead of doing it himself. "No, Sirius," she said, pointing at the recipe and holding up Penelope's invoice for him to inspect simultaneously. "It's not the same handwriting."
He blinked as he looked between the two, very distinct penmanships on the two parchments. Hermione was behind him now, digging through their crate of parchments below the corkboard. He heard her shout, "Aha!" and joined him back at his desk. He sat on his spinny chair and she sat on the edge of his desk, leaning over and placing another parchment next to Penelope's "invoice."
The handwriting on the note Hermione produced was exactly the same as the handwriting on the parchment Clegg gave them that morning; it was Penelope's own handwriting.
It was one of the first pieces of evidence they had collected from Penelope's home. It had been placed on the refrigerator with a light sticking charm, detailing the foods her healers had recommended she avoid throughout her pregnancy. Sirius couldn't help but wonder, the first time he'd seen the list, why anyone would ask a pregnant woman to not consume milk, but he'd never asked.
Now, what Sirius really didn't understand, was how Clegg hadn't recognized his own wife's handwriting; unless he did.
"Kitten," Sirius breathed, as a thought dawned on him. "Has anyone thought to keep watch over the muggle spouses?" Hermione shook her head. He swallowed. "I think they may be in danger."
Hermione gestured for him to continue. "There's no way Clegg wouldn't recognize his own wife's handwriting. I could tell yours or Lily's in a heartbeat and I don't live with either of you. But he received this note, in the form of an invoice from the Neep - it's nondescript. Non threatening. Instead of keeping it to himself or even telling us it was from Penelope, he goes along with the ruse of it being from the shop. Why?"
"So the Death Eaters watching him wouldn't know he's figured something out," Hermione finished for him. "And if Penelope was able to send him a note on Bagely's stationary, it means she would have had access to that particular stationary."
"Which means she's either being held in The Magic Neep, or at the print shop where this stationary is produced," Sirius said. Hermione grinned.
"But why would she pick the Magic Neep, specifically, unless there was a connection," she stated. Sirius donned a large grin to match the one on the witch in front of him. He leapt from his seat and picked her up off the desk, spinning her around in his arms.
"Kitten, I think we just made a huge breakthrough."
Despite the situational evidence they had before them, Robards needed something more concrete before he could bother the Minister of Magic to sign a warrant. Sirius and Hermione spent the rest of the day building their case.
Hermione, unfortunately, was having a hell of a time staying focused; with only five hours left on her twenty-four hour hypnotic trigger, she was starting to run on fumes alone. Those fumes may have been Sirius's coffee breath and the light smell of the cigarettes he'd chain smoked at lunch. She knew he was likely as tired as she was since neither of them had slept for more than 24 hours at this point.
She was absolutely horrified that McLaggen had been able to hypnotize her in the first place. When she first joined the academy, Hypnosis resistance was something she and Harry and Ron had worked together for countless hours to finally achieve. The fact that she had let her guard down so fully in her anger at Sirius that Cormac was able to sneak through a crack infuriated her. She hated to think how much teasing she'd have to endure from Sirius when this was all over.
If he'd tease, that was. She wouldn't have been too surprised if he actually reprimanded her, instead. As her former superior, it had been drilled into them to never let their defenses down, especially off the clock in the world of civilians. As Aurors, they were prime targets for mental and physical attacks and complacency was not the way to ensure their personal safety or the safety of their loved ones.
Cormac had been at Maid Latte nearly every day since she'd started working there, and even more often since she and Sirius had been assigned to their case. It made sense to her, in hindsight, that he was there observing her, everyday, watching her as she slowly became more and more complacent.
The cafe had become a safe space for her in the last couple of months, she realized. It shouldn't, she knew, logically. The place was filled to the brim with unsuspecting muggles. She, Luna, and Sirius (Seamus, Dean and Cormac by extension) had a sworn duty to protect those muggles. She had absolutely no business becoming complacent in that building, despite its facade. Despite her facade.
When this was all over, and she had some sleep under her belt, she'd do better, she vowed.
Sirius took a moment to look up at her.
"How are you doing, Kitten?"
"I feel like my heart is about to stop," she answered truthfully. The delirium of sleeplessness had passed and Hermione was now feeling the physical weight of her body - attuned to it in a way she never felt before. Despite the all-nighters she pulled in her school days, she had to admit it was a lot harder to pull off as she aged. Sirius grimaced.
"Just a few more hours, pet, and we can go crash."
We. She tried not to read into it. We can go crash. Her heartbeat picked up and she felt the thud in every inch of her exhausted body. They'd napped together before; did he mean we can crash together? Again? She shook herself out of it when she heard the door to their office swing open.
"Oi, 'Mione, you look like shit," came Ron's amused voice, who had pulled up a chair by hers. Harry had come in as well and was pulling his own seat up next to Sirius. He winced at his friend's candor, but Hermione only rolled her eyes. She was used to Ron.
Sirius, however, was glaring absolute, undeniable daggers at the ginger man sitting next to her. His knuckles on the hand gripping his quill were bright white, and his jaw was ticking with the pressure of his clench.
"She looks just fine, Weasley. What do you boys need?"
"No, Ron's right, actually. Hermione, are you feeling well," Harry asked, much more sympathetic than his friend had been. Hermione sighed.
"We've been making some very good progress on our case, is all. I'm just feeling a bit knackered."
"Oh, I bet a little tired is an understatement," came a third, unwelcome, voice from the doorway, where Cormac leaned with a self-satisfied snigger.
Sirius growled, standing and bracing both of his hands on his desk, as if the desk had the power to keep him from lunging at the smug bastard in the doorway. "McLaggen, get yourself out of my sight before I murder you," he seethed.
Cormac's leer fell from his features as he stood straight, gave his superior a single nod, and made for the bullpen.
"What the fuck," Ron asked, bewildered, glancing between Harry and Sirius. Sirius threw himself back down into his chair and continued his report. He didn't look at Hermione, who sat there, wide eyes glued to her partner. She willed him to look at her, to reassure her that his anger wasn't in any way directed at her. She caught Harry's gaze, however, who looked like he was about to say something aloud.
"Please, forget about it," she pleaded with her best friend in a whisper. His eyes hardened and he set his jaw as he gave her a curt nod. He looked at Ron instead.
"Ron, go downstairs and grab Hermione a Pepper-Up, please."
The redhead quickly agreed, feeling the tension in the room, and scurrying out to find the requested potion.
Harry cleared his throat and tried for an unbothered expression, which didn't really pan out, but continued as if it had. "Mum told me what you Luna had thought up for the bachelor party, 'Mione," he said. She and Sirius looked at him now. "I think it's a fantastic idea. Doing them together, that is. She and Luna spent most of the day coming up with some of the games, Dad and Ron spent a few hours stocking up the liquor cabinet, and Tonks already booked Andi to watch Teddy."
Suddenly there was a red opaque phial set in front of Hermione, with a label reading "Pepper-Up." Hermione grabbed the potion and uncorked it, wondering only briefly why it wasn't in the standard transparent phial, and knocked it back.
"Thank you, Ronald," she said as she put the phial back in his hand. "What sort of drinks did you and James pick out?"
Ron didn't answer, he just stood there staring blankly at the wall behind Sirius.
"Ron," Hermione asked, snapping her fingers in front of his face. Again, no respose, but she quickly sat back in her seat, feeling blackness creep up around the perimeter of her vision. She closed her eyes to fight it back.
"Ron," she heard Harry ask.
"Weasley," came Sirius's voice. Very distantly, she heard footsteps move away from her, and distantly heard Sirius's voice come through a fog of black smoke. "Hermione? Hermione!"
Sirius leapt over his desk and took Hermione in his arms, shaking her gently and tapping her cheeks. But her eyes remained closed, soft murmurs escaping her lips.
"'M awake, Siri," he heard her say.
"Wake up, Kitten," he begged, looking around frantically and patting her cheeks to keep her tethered to consciousness. He spotted the empty vial Ron had dropped on the floor and motioned for Harry to bring it to him.
Harry, horrified by the scene in front of him, picked up the vial and read the label. "Sleeping draught?"
"Fuck," Sirius muttered, shaking Hermione a little more roughly than before. "Buggering Fuck, Hermione don't fall asleep!"
"Sirius, what's going on," Harry asked, petrified, not daring to get close to the man or his sleeping friend.
"I'll explain later, Harry. Go find Luna. I need Luna," he was saying, alternating taps between Hermione's cheeks. The girl in his arms was giggling softly, muttering nonsense.
Sirius slid down to the ground, laying Hermione across his legs, holding her torso upright against his shoulder. "Okay pet, I don't know what to do, but when Luna gets here I'm going to have her do legilimency on you again, is that alright?"
"Why don't you do it yourself," she murmured against his chest, voice muffled by his robes. He was mindlessly moving her hair out of her face, motions repeating in soothing strokes.
"I'm not looking in your mind, sweetheart. I don't want to know any secrets you wouldn't willingly share with me. But I am going to try something. Do you trust me, pet?"
Her breath started evening out, coming in deeper, and Sirius shook her, hoping the jolt was enough to keep her conscious. He winced as she whined, clearly frustrated that he wasn't letting her succumb to her slumber.
Sirius was mentally rifling through everything he'd learned about hypnosis throughout his life. There needs to be a seed. A seed of emotion to either make the spell successful or ruin it. If Cormac hypnotized her to hate him, she'd need to have at least a little bit of hate already planted in her to bring the spell to successful completion.
Which she very much did when the spell was first cast; she'd been ignoring him for a week and half because she was angry at him.
He pressed her sides tightly when he felt her slip further down his chest, and she jumped at the action, muttering and mumbling curses under her breath. He was too busy thinking to fully register her words.
A seed for the opposite… he recalled from his academy days. A seed for the opposite emotion could dissolve the trigger altogether. Cormac probably didn't believe Hermione held any regard for Sirius, considering their various public disagreements in the past. It was a thought, a passing idea. But Hermione was slowly slipping further into unconsciousness and he had to do something.
"I'm so sorry, love," he whispered, slipping his hand around her ear to cradle the base of her skull. Her eyes fluttered open, staring at him blearily – he swallowed thickly and lowered his head even closer, his free hand cupping her cheek. "Forgive me," he breathed across her lips, before gently lowering his lips fully onto hers.