a/n: This was a quick adventure. I plan to come back and do a sequel when another event provides the right prompt. As always, thanks poka for the review and follow! On to the next.
Chapter 5: Containment
Hermione felt like she was enveloped in a cloud. She was weightless. Maybe she was dead. It didn't bother her. The pain and fever were gone. That was a relief. Her peace was interrupted. Harry. She didn't want to never see Harry again. Realizing she didn't want to be dead, she forced herself to tune in to her other senses. There was a faint din of whispered and hushed voices. A smell was unfamiliar. It was medicinal. Then she felt a weight on top of her. Blankets. Her right hand twitched. She felt something squeeze it.
"I think she's waking up," Harry's voice drifted into her thoughts.
"Give us the room," another voice said. Dumbledore?
"Hermione," Harry said, closer to her ear.
She let out a small groan, wasn't sure she was capable of speech. Opening her eyes, they focus on the unfamiliar ceiling. Blinking several times, she didn't move.
"Here, here's some ice." Harry brought a cold chip to her lips.
Taking it in her mouth, she let it melt slowly, the cold trickle down her sore throat. She started to bring her free hand up to rub her eyes. It was heavy and the movement sent a pain up her arm.
"It's healing. It's going to be okay," Harry reassured her. "The infection was bad."
"Fifteenth century germs," she acknowledged with a whisper.
"They were harder to deal with," the third person said. It was Dumbledore.
Hermione's eyes grew wide, she turned her head to the sound. "Professor?"
"Miss Granger. I understand you had quite an adventure," the headmaster said with a sympathetic smile.
"Sirius." She was suddenly concerned he wasn't to be found.
"He's okay. He couldn't stay here. He still hasn't been cleared," Harry explained.
Anger rose up within her. After everything, the ministry was still incapable of admitting they were wrong. The sound of chairs moving got her attention again. Turning her head, she saw Dumbledore sitting next to her bed and Harry shifting to make room.
"Harry tells me you might be better able to explain what happened to you last week," Dumbledore continued.
Last week? The detail confused her. Had she been unconscious for seven days? Had she really been that sick? "I've been here a week?"
"No," Harry spoke up. "We were gone a week."
Surprised, Hermione studied Harry. Tried to gauge his demeanor. "Is everyone else okay?"
He nodded. "Everyone made it out of the ministry. Voldemort showed himself. The ministry can't deny he's back anymore."
The Daily Prophet front page came back to her. "They thought we died."
"Several of the Order saw you three go through the veil. No one has ever come back from that," Dumbledore explained. "Harry's told me where you went and how you got back. He thought you could elaborate about how it all happened."
Looking around the room, she didn't see the journals. Then she felt her shirt, realized it was a hospital gown. "Where are my things?"
"I've got them," Harry assured her.
Relaxing, her eyes moved back and forth as she considered the information. The ministry could barely acknowledge Voldemort was back despite overwhelming evidence. They wouldn't admit Sirius was innocent. They couldn't be trusted with the knowledge she had. Could she even trust Dumbledore? He spent the past year ignoring Harry's concerns. The veil was dangerous though. And the origins of the fort needed to be understood by people with more experience than she had. Dumbledore might be the best of all her options. "Can you get them for me?" she asked Harry, pushing herself up with her good arm to sit.
Harry placed a bag in her lap and got busy with several pillows to make her more comfortable. "Thank you," she said to him and dug through everything. Pulling out the journals she gave Dumbledore a long stare. "There's a magical being at the heart of Azkaban's island. It's capable of creating things in exchange for payment." It was a sanitized version of the abomination that existed in the North Sea.
"Payment?" Dumbledore asked.
"Sacrifices. Human life. Human suffering," she explained. "Ekrizdis ended up on the island while being chased by muggles. He killed them and in exchange the being gave him food and shelter. Over time he sacrificed enough for it to build the start of the fort."
Leaning forward, this appeared to be new information for the headmaster. "Where did the being come from?"
She shook her head. "Ekrizdis never figured that out. He thought it was a result of wizards practicing the dark arts. It was a residue from the magic." Digging back into the bag, she found her shirt, felt the phial in the front pocket. After several clumsy one handed attempts she freed it from the fabric and handed it to Dumbledore. "I think that's a sample of it."
Albus studied it, his eyes grew wide when the black tar moved on its own. "How is this connected to the veil?"
Hermione pulled the journals closer to her. She had a five hundred year old secret. Was it better to remain that way? Secrets had led to the environment primed for Voldemort's rise. Twice. Finally, the decision made, she pushed the books over to Dumbledore as well. "Ekrizdis kept detailed notes. His descent into the madness that controlled him in the end. He understood the being needed the sacrifices to recharge after huge magical actions. He spent decades building his fort, creating cells to hold muggles that were tortured to feed the being. Over time, the torture became ritual and the relationship between Ekrizdis and the being turned to a type of worship. He decided to create things that could protect the being even after he was gone."
"The dementors," Harry said, putting the pieces together from her story.
"Yeah. He made them from the pain and suffering he inflicted on the muggles he captured through forced shipwrecks. It was a terrible cycle. And then he grew concerned that the being needed to be protected in different times."
"The future," Dumbledore deduced.
"He used the being to make the veil in his time. It started out as a gateway to a type of void. It nearly destroyed the creature. Creating the connections within the void to different time consumed an incredible amount of energu. It took decades and hundreds of lives to restore its power."
"The dementors we saw were different," Harry observed when Dumbledore silently processed her revelation.
Tears pricked her eyes at the words. "This is speculation… The dementors created from non-magical people had no magical properties. They were basically a shell of pain and suffering. He let one dementor feed on me briefly. After that, it gained some of the characteristics we associate with dementors. I think they're created from muggles, but evolved from magical contacts."
She watched Harry fall into the silence Dumbledore was trapped in. It was a lot to process.
"There are several veils and they're all connected through the void. They were all created by this being," Dumbledore summarized. "And the dementors travel through time through the veil."
Hermione nodded. "It's all in those journals. I don't think he knew how the dementors would evolve, though. He seemed surprised when it changed."
Dumbledore looked down at the books now in his possession. "Just when one thinks they can't be surprised," he said and looked up at her again. "This is a very important find. It fills in many gaps in the historical record." Hermione opened her mouth, closed it, hugged her injured arm to her midsection. Albus picked up on the hesitations. "You have concerns?"
Looking at Harry first, Hermione nodded. "I'm not sure it's a good idea for many people to know about the veil and its connection to the past. If You-Know-Who is back, it could be dangerous for him to learn about it. He could change the past." She was careful not to single out other people who may misuse such a portal.
"It's a fair concern. Let me read through these and determine the risk. If you can wait for me before sharing this with anyone else?" Albus asked as he stood. "I'm glad you're all alive and well. It was a… dark week."
"Professor Dumbledore," Harry started, standing as well. "I wondered if we could go back to 12 Grimmauld Place when Hermione is released before we have to go home for the summer break."
"I think that's okay. We thought it best to alter the Grangers' memories of the past week. There's no reason they need to remember the anguish they felt believing their only daughter was dead. I'll arrange from them to pick her up from the train station on Monday. That should give you the weekend to process everything you've been through?"
Harry nodded and then held up his hand. "Were the Dursleys' memories altered too?"
The older man shifted uncomfortably on the spot. "We hadn't informed them yet. The Grangers subscribe to the Daily Prophet. I didn't think we could keep it from them while we investigated what exactly happened."
"You weren't sure we were dead," Hermione concluded.
"I hoped you weren't. I'm glad I was right."
Even as he left, Hermione lingered on his words. She suspected he knew more about the veil than he let on. Why else would he think they weren't gone? Harry returned to his seat, took her hand. "How long have we been here?" she asked.
"Twenty-four hours. It took time to convince them we were who I said we were and then even more time to explain where we'd been and how you got the infection. Luckily, Dumbledore showed up. Requested the Department of Mysteries to release old healing potions from the era you were infected. You started to improve right away."
"It is a rather unbelievable story," she admitted. "Does everyone else think we're dead?"
Harry shook his head. "The Daily Prophet ran a correction. Claimed only Sirius died. Professor Dumbledore thinks that will give him more freedom. If no one is looking for him. Ron and Ginny are here with the rest of the Weasleys.
She relaxed. "Do you think my parents won't remember anything from… when they thought…" Feeling herself getting choked up over the pain they must have been in.
"Mrs. Weasley already talked to them. She was worried. They think you're with the Weasleys," Harry explained. His eyes grew sad. "You didn't tell me a dementor fed off you."
"So much happened all at once. I almost forgot," she admitted. "When did they say I could leave?"
"I think anytime now that you're awake. I can go get the healer and see," he offered.
Hermione watched him leave, took time to process everything alone. There was still one thing nagging her. Where had the being gone? The rune stones were moved. It was clearly still alive and well. If alive was something that could be used to describe it. She'd have to wait for Dumbledore to read everything before she could talk to someone about it. The fort had been used as a prison for nearly three hundred years. Before that, the dementors and the being presumably continued to capture unsuspecting muggles after Ekrizdis died. That meant the being had hundreds of years to grow more powerful with each muggle. If it was capable of creating the veils and their connection through space and time, what was it capable of doing now? She shivered. How could it have gone unnoticed for so long. Was it capable of planning. Or was it content to grow and feed. What she knew about nature, nothing was ever really content to just exist. Especially something with so much agency.
~~/~~
Hermione and Harry were enjoying their breakfast at Grimmauld place. She was happy to be reunited with Sirius. It was also nice to see both Harry and Sirius so happy. They seemed to be the answer to what each one was missing. Harry a parental figure who unconditionally loved him and Sirius a friend who understood him without question. She wished Harry could just stay at the headquarters. She didn't really understand the reason for returning him to the Dursleys.
A pop announced someone apparating to the front landing. It had been nice to pretend they were an unconventional family for two days. She suspected it was Arthur or Molly ready to escort her back to the train station. She did need to see her parents. Her school trunk was delivered while she was in the hospital. It was packed and ready to go. Her arm was looking and feeling better. It was almost like nothing had happened. Almost.
"Professor," Harry said, welcoming Dumbledore with some surprise.
The sight of the headmaster, left Hermione feeling cold. He had questions. She studied him. Not questions. "What's happened?"
Albus focused his attention on her, determination was clear. "We have Order members who went to Azkaban, to document key points in the journals. They haven't returned."
"Who?" Sirius asked. His eyes darkened.
"Remus, Tonks, and Mad-Eye," Dumbledore answered. "I'm going there myself to find out what happened. Arthur is joining me. I thought, Hermione, we might need you."
"What?" Harry interrupted. "She's not going back there. We just got off the island."
"Harry. We have to help them if they ran into trouble," Hermione countered.
"Then I'm going with," Harry announced.
"Me too," Sirius proclaimed and stood. "We don't have time to waste."
"Arthur has a ship waiting for us," Albus said, motioning to the door.
"Just wait," Harry stopped them.
"Harry, we can't wait," Hermione interrupted before he could protest further. She didn't want to go back, but if they could help, they had to. "We'll be going in prepared this time." With Dumbledore, she thought to herself.
The argument seemed to be over. They moved as a group to the front door.
"Hold tight," Albus said, waited for everyone to find a connection to him, and turned on the spot.
They landed on the deck of a large ship. In place of canvas on the mast appeared to be a magical sail made of energy. "Best take a seat," Dumbledore instructed, pointing to several bench seats in the center.
As Harry, Hermione, and Sirius found a spot, they were surprised to find safety bars appeared. Hermione locked hers in place. She wasn't in a hurry to end up face down on the deck.
"They should put these in the Knight Bus," Harry murmured as he followed suit.
Hermione exchanged looks with the other two. She could tell they shared some of her apprehension. Although, the reasons were likely different for all three.
As if reading her mind, Sirius spoke up as they lurched forward. "Can't say I'd willingly go back to this bloody island. Can't decide if going voluntarily is better or worse. I guess this new wand could used to be broken in." Tapping the wand on his knee, he appreciated the new wood. "It was good of Ollivander to let me in the back of his shop." The old wand they took from Ekrizdis was handed over to Dumbledore in the hopes of possibly learning more about where and when it came from.
Hermione was curious about many things. Her questions would have to wait. She kept her eyes on the horizon as she absently picked at the bandages on her arm. Her movements stilled when she felt a touch. Looking down, she saw Harry's hand on hers. "What if they're not okay? What if Remus, Tonks, and Mad-Eye went there because of me and they're not okay." She gave her concerns words.
"We'll get to them. Maybe they just lost their boat," he said. "But if it's worse, this isn't your fault."
They sat in silence, each lost in their thoughts. The speed was significantly increased compared to their escape a few days previous. They'd be within the wards sooner than any of them would care to be.
When the ship came to an abrupt stop, Hermione knew something was wrong. Ships didn't just stop. Releasing her safety bar, she stood. Dumbledore and Arthur were moving with urgency down the stairs leading to the top deck. Hermione's stomach flipped. "What's going on?"
"It seems the island has expanded past the protective wards. There's a breakwater in place. We need to anchor the ship here so it's not sunk," Albus explained as Arthur worked to lower a lifeboat.
Hermione wasn't sure why they thought a smaller boat would fare better until she saw it hover in the air. It wasn't meant to navigate the treacherous water. They were going over it. Harry jumped in without hesitation, offered his hand to Hermione. She stepped over the edge, trusted her friend to get her aboard. It gave her the first look at the alterations Dumbledore described. She swallowed hard. The vastness of the expansion was terrifying. Was the being trying to increase its influence or leave the island? She followed Dumbledore with her eyes. Waited for him to find his own seat.
Arthur and Sirius released the ropes tying it to the ship and shoved off.
"Why did you want us to come?" she finally asked. It seemed strange. Wanting two newly minted sixth year students to investigate Azkaban. He had the journals. He knew what she knew. He didn't know what she suspected. Or maybe he did.
"The ministry came here earlier with a scheduled supply run," Albus said. "It couldn't get in."
"And you think that changes because we're with you," she surmised. The look on his face made her wonder if that wasn't entirely correct. "Because I'm with you."
"Why would Hermione make a difference?" Harry asked defensively.
Hermione pulled her arm closer to her. Her blood had been spilt on the island, in the cave. The being knew her. Tasted her pain and suffering and she got away. "It wants me back."
"It might," Dumbledore admitted.
Her chin went up in defiance. "I'm not it's property to control."
"Hardly," the headmaster agreed. "Our top priority is getting the Order members out. We can figure out how to address the changes to the island later."
"Hermione," Harry whispered. He clearly wanted to share his mind, understood they were in mixed company.
"It's okay, Harry," she tried to ease his worry.
"It's not," he insisted. "We just spent a full year being tormented by Umbridge. Voldemort invading my mind. And no one did anything to protect us."
Hermione shifted uncomfortably. It wasn't an outburst, but the words themselves carried a truth that cut deep.
"Mister Potter has every right to be concerned. I thought distancing myself from him would lead Voldemort to believe there wasn't a reason for him to strengthen the connection Harry and Voldemort seem to share. It was a calculation, and it was wrong," Dumbledore explained. The regret was etched in each word. "I will not ignore you anymore. Either of you."
It seemed to appease Harry. They continued in silence toward the wards. A barricade shot up from the breakwater. "Are we sure they got through?" Hermione asked. "Are we even sure they're inside the protections?"
"They are currently unplottable. There are two reasons why that might be the case. They're inside the wards or…" Albus trailed off.
"Or they're dead," Harry concluded.
"Miss Granger. Perhaps you can touch the wall," Arthur finally spoke up. He had remained quiet up to that point. Hermione wondered if that was because he had his own misgivings about the plan.
Arthur offered her a hand, steadied her as she made her way to the bow of the boat. Tentatively, she held out her left hand, touched the cold surface. It disintegrated before their eyes. The winds around them calmed. The water settled to a gentle wake. Hermione swallowed hard. "If we go in, how do we know we'll get out?"
Albus took out the phial containing the black residue. "I think I understand what we're dealing with. It can be contained. But we need to get inside and find it."
Uncertainty and fear were the only things she felt in that moment. It wasn't enough to make her turn back. She gave an imperceptible nod. The boat pushed forward, into the wards. The fort rose up before them. The walls appeared hardened. The skies were empty of dementors. Somehow their absence was more ominous. A sharp turn delivered them to the grassy patch near the cave. The remnant of the original island.
As they stepped out of the floating boat, a form appeared in the entrance of the cave. "About bloody time," Mad-Eye complained.
Arthur met him. "Is anyone hurt?"
"Just our prides, I should say," the gruff Auror admitted. The group followed them into the cave.
It wasn't a place Hermione thought she'd see again. Hoped she wouldn't see again. Inside they found Tonks and Remus, looking tired but otherwise unharmed.
"Sirius!" Remus called out, embraced his old friend. "I heard you weren't dead."
"Thanks to these two," he said, motioning to Harry and Hermione.
Tonks seemed concerned by their presence. Understandably. "Best get out of here then."
"Not quite yet, I'm afraid," Dumbledore said, walked further into the cave, studying it. He turned to Hermione. "The runes should be here. If I'm not mistaken."
She hadn't considered it. She assume the cave was the original modification. Now though, with his words, she realized, the library was the original cave. The circle of stones would have been surrounding them. Spinning on the spot, she stepped up to the wall. Looked for seams and cracks. Running her hand over the surface, a jagged piece of rock cut into her palm. She pulled back in surprise and then watched the wall absorb the streak of red. The room shook violently. Turning on the spot, she looked for Harry. Everyone was looking at the center of the cave. She followed their gaze downward. Stairs had appeared.
"Well, that's the most exciting thing that's happened since we've been here. Other than our boat sinking," Tonks commented.
"Not sure I'd characterize that as exciting," Remus replied ruefully, his wand tip lighting up the opening below them. "This either." He took a step forward. Found himself standing on an invisible surface. Unable to descend.
Hermione stepped forward. Harry and Dumbledore reached out to stop her.
"You're not going down there alone," Harry warned.
"We might not have a choice," she countered.
"We agreed we'd find Mad-Eye, Remus, and Tonks and leave," Harry said, stepping in front of her. Blocking her path.
"What's going on?" Tonks asked.
Harry pointed to the stairs. "There's a being under there that wants Hermione. It trapped you here to lure her back and now she thinks she's going to go down there to confront it."
"Not confront it, contain it," she corrected, looked to Dumbledore. "You said it could be done."
"I think it's possible. Yes," the headmaster started. "I believe it's the cast off residue of dark magic rituals from centuries of illicit spells. Dark witches and wizards came to this island to advance their cause. What exists under us is the purest evil. Concentrated dark magic. It's limited in his power by how much is sacrificed to it. Death, pain, suffering."
"How do we contain it?" Remus asked.
Albus pulled out a large emerald green bottle. "We poison the well with goodness. Force it to expend its power fighting that."
Hermione wasn't convinced. "That seems like a temporary solution. There are still prisoners here. Sources to feed on."
"It is, yes. According to the journals it took the creature decades to recover after creating the veils. We're buying time, but a considerable amount. And perhaps in that time we can vacate the prison. Remove the fuel. Contain and monitor," Dumbledore explained.
"Once it's weakened sufficiently we can ensure it's not able to hide like this again," Sirius said, earning him a scowl from Harry.
Hermione stepped around Harry, placed a comforting hand on his arm. "It doesn't want to kill me."
"You don't know that!" he yelled.
Pulling him away from the group, she was grateful when the adults moved away, giving them the privacy they seemed to need.
"Harry, it's growing beyond the wards. It's had centuries to store power. If it isn't stopped now, it might escape the island. Imagine the damage it would do on land," Hermione said, hoping he'd understand the danger.
"Look at what that thing did to get you back here. You can't seriously think it will let you go," Harry was practically begging her. Tears swelled in his eyes.
"You're giving it too much credit. It's not calculating. It's acting on instinct. Like an animal trying to migrate. It responds to its environment. I can out think it," she was certain her words were true.
Harry rubbed his face with his hand. "Ten minutes. If you're not back up, I'll blast through the rock if I have to."
"Ten minutes. If I can't poison it, I'll leave." She could tell he was holding back his objections. "I'm going down," she said to the adults, held out her hand for the bottle.
Albus handed it to her and stepped forward with her. She took one step down, found whatever was shielding it was gone. Another few steps, she looked back. Harry was trying to follow her, but couldn't.
She was on her own. About ten more steps down, Hermione reached the bottom. It was dark. She sent a series of blue bell flames ahead of her. Lighting the way. The tunnel opened up into cavern with a gaping hole at the center. It was so deep, she couldn't see the bottom. On the other side was an ornate doorway. She'd have to traverse the ledge around to reach it. At the very thought, a stone bridge appeared. Spanning the chasm. Carefully, she stepped forward, testing it. It seemed stable. Crossing it as quickly as she dared, the door opened once she stood in front of it.
Torches lit a circular room. The rune stones stood as if they were carved yesterday. At the center was a gigantic, writhing pool of black tar.
/You left./ A voice said in her head.
"I wasn't supposed to be here."
/You're part of me./
"No. I'm not."
It bubbled as if it was thinking about her answer.
/You took a part of me./
Her eyes grew big. Was that what it was all about? The small amount of residue? It knew it had been removed. "I did. I wanted to understand you."
/I want to understand me./
What in Merlin's name did that mean? Was it approaching sentience? Could she destroy something that was self aware? "You wanted me to come back. This wasn't just about that residue."
/Yes./
It was toying with her. She could feel it. "I came back. What do you want?"
/More./
"More? More what?" she asked, stepping closer. Hermione was afraid of the answer. Put her wand away, tightened her grip on the neck of the bottle.
/Everything. We want to leave this place. Travel through the veil. Spread throughout everything./
"We? You're more than one?" she asked, pulling out the stopper. Her toes nearly touching the edge of the blackness.
/We've become more. We want more./
That couldn't happen. Hermione knew that much. She poured the contents of the bottle into the pool and tried to take a step back. Something grabbed her leg, pulled her forward. Hermione fell backward, her head bouncing off the stone. Fighting to stay conscious, something was tugging her toward the residue.
/What… is it…/
Hermione tried to sit up, her legs were submerged. A jerked pulled her further into the pool. She turned, grabbling for a handhold. Finding a ridge in a rock, she held on. Flashes of memories raced through her head. People dying, torture, centuries of sacrifices. A primordial scream shook the room. Whatever held her snapped. She was free and scrambling up. Hermione pulled out her wand and ran through the door. The bridge was breaking apart. She had to go the long way. Hugging the wall, she shuffled, grabbing hand holds as she could. The ground shook again, her foot slipped, sending a shower of rock into the chasm. Holding on to the rock with her free hand, she felt her old wound protest under the stress.
"Hermione!" Harry's voice shouted, echoed around her.
Finding her footing, she looked toward the exit. Saw him. "I'm okay! I'm coming."
She worked her way around, watched him try to figure out how to help. Dumbledore appeared behind him, wand out. The headmaster expanded the ledge for her, giving her more freedom to move. Once she was in reach of Harry, he pulled her toward him. "I did it," she said, let Dumbledore support her other arm. Together the three climbed the stairs. Sirius and Remus were ready to help them up. More shaking rained rocks down from the ceiling.
"We need to move," Mad-Eye commanded, ushering everyone out of the cave, bringing up the rear.
Outside, the dementors dotted the sky again. Agitated by the disturbance. Dumbledore increased the length and width of the lifeboat to accommodate everyone. The group scrambled into the hull. Hermione sat next to Harry in the back, let the rest get them to safety. Rubbing the back of her head, her hand came back slick with blood.
"You're hurt," Harry said, turning her head to get a better look.
"I fell," she admitted. Finally got a look at her pants. They were stained black from the pool. She brushed at it, tried to get it off. She felt herself panicking. Thinking about the memories.
"Hey, hey, you're okay," Harry said, grabbed her hands. We'll get you back to Grimmauld place and you can change there. He hugged her to him, tried to calm her.
Hermione closed her eyes. Tried to forget everything she had just seen. Just felt. Just did. It was overwhelming her.
"Miss Granger," Dumbledore's voice got her attention.
She pried her eyes open. In horror she saw the walls of the fort crumbling. Her hand flew up to her mouth. "The prisoners. You have to get them out of there."
"We will. We can't do it alone. Mad-Eye and Tonks are going to apparate from the ship to get help. Can you tell me what happened?" Albus redirected her.
"It spoke to me. In my head," she started. "It was confused. It knew I took the small bottle of residue. It thought that's what it wanted back. Then it thought it was me it wanted. It switched between using 'we' and 'I' to refer to itself."
"I see. And you were able to administer the potion?"
"I did. All of it. That's when it fought back. Tried to pull me into it. The potion took affect I think and then it released me," she explained. She wasn't sure why she was holding back the final piece. It felt like embarrassment. She didn't want anyone to know what she saw and felt.
"Is that all, Miss Granger?" the headmaster asked. His voice seemed to convey that he knew it wasn't all.
"It made me see things. When it was fighting back."
"What kind of things?" Harry asked, sounding worried.
"People who were killed and sacrificed to it. Muggles who were tortured. It was awful," she cried.
The boat passed over the wards. The larger ship appeared before them. The adults started talking back and forth rapidly. Making sure everyone had their assignments.
Sirius helped Hermione and Harry onto to the deck. "I got you two. We'll go back to 12 Grimmauld Place."
That was all Hermione wanted at that point. Safety, a shower, and a bed. She let the sway of the ship lull her. Harry's touch ground her. The whirlwind of activity seemed endless. Tonks and Mad-Eye apparated away. They even cross ministry ships before reaching land. They were taking the threat seriously, even if it was to prisoners. At least that was something.
Dumbledore nodded as Sirius ushered them to the beach. It was an eerie déjà vu. "I will meet you at the headquarters as soon as I can," Albus said, turned his attention back to Arthur and Remus.
Hermione wasn't sure what they were planning. She couldn't care. She let Sirius take her away, welcomed the pull and pressure for once. Allowed it to feel like an embrace. Stepping inside Grimmauld place was a relief. The fort, the being, the suffering, it was on the other side of the door. Harry took her hand, lead her up to the bathroom, and set her on the edge of the tub. He stepped out and was back in seconds with clean clothes.
"Let me look at your head," he said.
She angled it to give him access. Felt a sting and tried not to flinch.
"I'm sorry," he apologized and doused some gauze with alcohol. This might hurt.
She offered an encouraging smile. "I'm familiar with the feeling." She let him care for her wounds, it was really more for his peace of mind than hers. When he was satisfied she wasn't severely injured he left her to get cleaned up. Hermione tossed her dirty clothes in the corner. She planned to toss them. Finally, the hot water washed the dirt and blood away. The stress followed and she felt her muscles relax. Tension she didn't even know she had released. Tears finally flowed. She let herself feel the emotions that had been bottled up. Turning off the water, the air hit her, making her feel exposed. As quickly as she could, she dried off and redressed. Gathering up the discarded pants and shirt, she carried them into the bedroom she'd been sleeping in. Relieved to see Harry sitting on the edge of the bed, she dropped the clothes and fell onto the bed next to him.
Harry turned, rubbed her back. "Are you hungry?"
She shook her head. He started to get up, but she caught his hand. "Stay. Please."
"Okay." He toed off his shoes and crawled in next to her.
Hermione curled up, rested her head on his chest.
Harry pulled out a potion bottle from his shirt pocket.
Hermione studied it. "What is it?"
"It's a dreamless sleep potion. Sirius thought you might need it," he explained. He looked like he carry sadness for both Sirius and Hermione over the need.
She took the bottle, let him help her with the stopper, took a dose, and handed it back to him.
Harry twisted as he set the bottle on the nightstand. He returned his attention to her, smoothed her wet hair back from her face. He kissed her forehead, and let the silence pull her into sleep.
~~/~~
Hermione woke alone. She listened for noise. Studied the window. It was still daylight. That was all she was certain of. Rolling on her back, muscles groaned in protest. It was going to be a rough couple days. She suddenly realized she was supposed to meet her parents at the train station. Had she missed them? Hoping that Mrs. Weasley may have handled the situation, she knew she needed to get up. There were responsibilities that wouldn't wait for her to feel ready to address. Forcing herself up and out of bed, she had one immediate regret. Going to sleep with wet hair. The look of her in the mirror was a bit horrifying. She wasn't one to obsess over her appearance, her naturally curly, bushy hair and her teeth had been the two things she felt most self conscious over. Thankfully the teeth were fixed in her fourth year. Her hair… well she had taken the time to learn smoothing charms and finding hair elixirs. It was far more effort than she liked, but the result was satisfying. Digging through her bag, she found her hair products, worked for about five minutes until she felt presentable.
The effort had reminded her that her arm was still healing. Removing the bandage she saw it had broken open at some point and closed again. Likely when she was making her escape. It didn't seem to require a healer. It would have been nice to be back at Hogwarts where a stop to the hospital wing was a simple task. Going to Saint Mungo's seemed excessive. Finally, she walked down the stairs. Hermione found Sirius sitting at the dining room table drinking some amber liquid. "Hey," she said, not wanting to bother him if he wanted to be left alone.
"Hermione. Come sit. Kreacher, tea," he ordered. "Bloody house elf nearly got us all killed," he mumbled.
Sitting next to him, she bit her tongue. She didn't really think it was Kreacher's fault he had been conditioned to hold blood status in high regard. Sirius could be nicer to him. She was of the opinion that if he had treated the house elf better he wouldn't have betrayed them. That was a conversation for a different day. A teapot and empty cup appeared. Sirius poured the tea for her and studied her. "Are you feeling better?"
"A bit," she admitted, held the warm cup between her hands. "Where's Harry?"
Sirius cocked his head toward the back room that was dedicated for the Order's operations. "Dumbledore is coordinating assignments. Voldemort is officially back, that changes the calculus."
"Harry's back there?"
"Yeah, he's inserted himself into the planning," he said, clearly proud at the assertiveness.
"Maybe he could stay here this summer?" Hermione asked, finally sipping the golden liquid. For as grumpy as Kreacher was, he was good at what he did.
The question elicited a grimace from Sirius. "Dumbledore thinks he needs to go back to the Dursleys'. Something about a protection he has there."
It didn't seem fair. Then again, there were only two more summers before Harry was an adult and could make his own decisions.
"Besides. I'm dead now."
The bitterness couldn't be missed. It did seem like an inconvenient solution. It would be better if they could prove to the ministry that Peter Pettigrew was still alive. "Maybe now that Voldemort is out in the open, Peter will make an appearance."
"Peter," Sirius said, took another drink of his whiskey. The name elicited anger, hurt, and sadness.
Hermione didn't pretend to understand the betrayal.
"You did good," Sirius changed the subject.
She started to brush it off.
"I mean it. The end of our fifth year, we were pulling pranks. Our biggest goal after our exams was to embarrass Severus one last time. You, Harry, all of you. You've had to grow up too fast. Fight things you shouldn't even know exist," he pressed on.
The door to the back room opened. Hermione looked up and then back to Sirius. "Thanks. And thank you for the potion," she said, put a hand on his arm and stood. "Professor, any update on the prisoners?"
Albus motioned for Hermione to sit back in her seat. He and Harry joined them. Two empty cups appeared, the teapot rocked as it was refilled. "Every prisoner is accounted for. The structure has been reinforced," Dumbledore reported.
Relief over the news, Hermione sat back. They all knew from personal experience, from Sirius to Hagrid, there were no doubt witches and wizards that didn't deserve to be in Azkaban. They even tried to put Dumbledore there for accusations of treason. Even if there were people there for legitimate crime, they didn't deserve to be crushed under a crumbling building. "And the being?" she asked hesitantly.
Dumbledore smiled kindly. "Contained. The Department of Mysteries now has the responsibility of monitoring it and keeping it contained."
It sounded like the appropriate course of action. It still didn't make her feel settled.
"This still troubles you?" Albus asked.
Shifting, she looked to Harry and back at her headmaster. "It's just that the Department of Mysteries isn't very secure is it? I mean, some Hogwarts students broke in pretty easily."
"It seems there was a coordinated effort to make sure Harry got inside the hall of prophecies. Your concern is well placed. That the department was so easily compromised suggests spies are within the ministry already. I know the Unspeakables personally who are in charge. They're up for the task," Dumbledore explained, and his eyes softened. "You three uncovered something that had been shrouded in secrecy for centuries. You should be proud of your contributions and try to enjoy your summer break."
It was wholly unsatisfying. There wasn't much to be done. "I guess I should get back to my parents then," Hermione said, that was the last thing she wanted to do. It made her feel guilty. They wouldn't understand anything she'd recently gone through.
"Maybe you and Harry can stay here another week," Albus offered and stood. "In case there are more questions."
"Really?" Harry asked with guarded excitement. Sirius also perked up.
"Really. The arrangement have already been made," Albus said, heading for the exit. "A medi-wizard will be stopping by in an hour to check you over, Miss Granger. I'll be in touch."
The trio watched Dumbledore leave. They all felt like they got a reprieve from their lonely summers. At least a delay.
Sirius smiled. "We should celebrate our exploits. Whata say? We feast."
Harry and Hermione smiled. Hermione wrapped a hand around Harry's arm and leaned against him. She could pretend they were normal for a week. Watch the joy Sirius brought to Harry. Pretend everything wasn't going to change. Voldemort would only get more dangerous. The Death Eaters would be emboldened. There were spies in the ministry. Harry had a connection to Voldemort that remained unexplained. The future was even more uncertain that before they plunged into the veil. The only thing she knew for sure was that her future was with Harry. Where ever it took them, they'd be together. They'd have each other's back.
Kreacher wandered in, trailing a tray of food, muttering as he went. Sirius opened his mouth to shout at the House Elf, caught Hermione's eyes and blew out a small breath. "Kreacher. Why don't you join us?" he offered, pulled another setting from a nearby shelf.
Shock transformed to pride. "Master Sirius thinks Kreacher is not able to take care of himself."
"Bloody hell," Sirius exclaimed.
Hermione knew her words wouldn't be welcomed by the house elf. She watched Sirius argue with Kreacher. Watched the older man try to reason with the unreasonable elf. Change never came easy. That was something. All the change on the horizon needed to fight against inertia. Harry poured her more tea, slid it into her empty hand. Tomorrow could contain the problems. They could take one day.