To say that Sirius Black was angry after reading Harry's letter would have been the understatement of the year.

It had taken Hedwig several days to reach him, for Sirius had taken himself off to the sunny climes of Southern Spain, to get some colour into a complexion turned unhealthily pallid from his years of incarceration. So when, after a long transcontinental flight, Harry's owl finally found Sirius - who was off womanising at some beach bar or other - she was tired and very, very cross.

But her anger was nothing compared to Sirius' as soon as he finished Harry's letter.

He stormed back and checked out of his hotel, and within the hour he'd booked himself on an Apparition Route across Europe. It wasn't a simple thing to cross the continent in any form, and Apparition was no different. The straightest route was the most popular, so required pre-booking, and as such Sirius had to bounce between countries to get home as fast as he could.

So from Seville he hopped to Madrid, then on to Zaragoza, then to Marseille, via the border checks in Andorra. Vaduz came next, where his ex-convict status caused him to be detained by security wizards for a full hour, so it was a het-up Sirius Black who arrived in Luxembourg before bouncing straight to Brussels, then over the English Channel to finally reach London.

He was so annoyed by this point that when he Apparated the last leg to Hogwarts he forgot about the magical protections around the school, bouncing painfully off the barrier as he collided face-first with the enchanted gates in his hurry to get inside. The resounding gong of the impact was matched in intensity only by the volley of filthy swear words that Sirius threw at the gates, as they rattled tauntingly before him.

If only he'd been able to ask Hermione Granger about it. Should could have reminded him that there was no Apparating within the walls of Hogwarts. It said so in Hogwarts, A History, a book she'd read more than any other.

But Hermione and Sirius had never met, so neither recognised the other on that Monday afternoon, as they passed on the staircase leading to Professor Dumbledore's office. In fact, Sirius was moving so feverishly fast that Hermione didn't even have the chance to match up his face with his mugshots, which had been plastered all over the Daily Prophet after his escape from Azkaban last year.

And Sirius had no time for idling young witches, either. He didn't even stop to apologise as he brusquely swept past Hermione, racing by like a fierce mid-November Scottish gale and causing her to have to flatten herself against the wall, in order to escape being bulldozed by this relentless force of human nature.

And as such Hermione was huffily curious about who this rude stranger was and why he had nearly turned her into Dorothy, and sent her spiralling into her own personal Land of Oz as he flew past her.

Hermione had just been visiting with Professor Dumbledore, presenting him with the plans drawn up by the Student Committee, of which she was a vocal member, for how they were going to assist with decorating the Great Hall for the Yule Ball. Dumbledore had approved the plans and Hermione was on her way back to lunch, but now she loitered on the stairs and decided to eavesdrop on the heated conference taking place in the Headmaster's office. She'd have to make up an excuse about forgetting to ask something if caught, but she simply couldn't leave now, not with the raised voices reaching her ears.

For whoever this man was, he was not happy with Dumbledore. Hermione crept up the stairs, quiet as a mouse, and turned her ear to listen closely.

And what she heard set her on high alert at a stroke.

"What the hell is this, Dumbledore! What the hell is happening to my Harry?"

Hermione felt her breath hitch at the mere mention of Harry's name. That tended to happen a lot lately and she knew that she had to do something about it. It was disgustingly shameful how her insides seemed to freeze, then thaw, then utterly erupt more and more violently, as Harry Potter burrowed ever deeper into her world. It had to be stopped before it drove her crazy.

Then she remembered that she hadn't seen Harry since yesterday and that simply wasn't acceptable either.

But if she couldn't see him, perhaps hearing about him would just have to do. She understood that the human hurricane she'd just encountered must have been Harry's Godfather, Sirius Black. After all, who else would use the term 'my Harry'? The playfully dopey chambers of Hermione's newly-vivacious heart whispered that she could, especially if talking about Yule Ball dates, and the notion brought a girlish glow to her cheeks as it crossed her brain.

Though Hermione was still highly annoyed about the Yule Ball, after hearing that Sally-Anne Perks from Hufflepuff had asked Harry to be her date, which made her so cross that she was back to being the snappy, angry Hermione of old for a few hours. She just wanted to throw as many curses as she could at Sally-Anne and her cutesy little button nose. She couldn't tell anyone why, of course, and the girls of her dorm hoped that her mood was only a relapse, as they were getting quite fond of a Hermione who wasn't a complete nightmare to breathe the same air as.

Pushing such murderous thoughts aside for now, Hermione pinned her head flat to the wall as Dumbledore finally replied to the angry questions.

"Harry is serving a punishment for swearing at a teacher," Dumbledore explained, calmly.

"He was provoked!" Sirius cried. "Provoked after performing well in a class! It is absolutely absurd. Harry told me everything."

"Provocation or not, respect and restraint must be maintained," Dumbledore argued. "Harry's actions warrant punishment."

"And Snape's actions do not, is that it?"

"I must support my faculty and the rules of the school," said Dumbledore.

"Wrong, you must protect your students first and foremost, especially from odious cockroaches like Severus Snape!" Sirius yelled. "He was a Death Eater, Albus. Not by coercion or persuasion, but by his own choice. Snakes like that don't often change their scales. He bullied the weak under the orders of Voldemort, now he's bullying students and getting paid for it!"

Out on the staircase, Hermione slapped her hand to her mouth to catch the shocked gasp that exploded there. She only hoped that she hadn't been heard.

"I trust Severus Snape," Dumbledore replied softy. "And I trust that he is bullying no-one."

"Then explain why Harry is being punished and Snape is allowed to insult and belittle him?" Sirius demanded. "I swore to Harry when I took him in that I would never tolerate him being abused again, Dumbledore, and I meant every syllable. That's why I am here, to put an end to this nonsense."

Hermione, from her eavesdropping position, felt her heart stop a moment. What did that mean … abused again? Hermione almost didn't want to listen on, didn't think that she could stand the wound she felt certain was coming. She knew she ought to run away … Harry would hate for her to find out about the secrets of his past, especially like this. He might not forgive her for it.

But she was frozen, she couldn't move … she had to hear this and just deal with the fallout later.

"Abuse, Sirius? Whatever do you mean?" Dumbledore asked, a trace of concern in his voice.

"I think you know," Sirius growled back. "At Halloween I took Harry to Godric's Hollow … I took him to see James and Lily."

Hermione's heart sank as she remembered her silly anger at Harry's absence that night. She had been cross with him for not being there and all the time he'd been mourning at his Mum and Dad's graves. Hermione felt truly rotten about herself as Sirius went on.

"I told Harry how James had always planned a prank for him, to pretend that he was never sent his Hogwarts letter and they were going to send him to Muggle school," Sirius said. "And do you know what Harry told me? He said that he nearly never did get his letter, that his vicious uncle utterly forbade magic in the house and tried to deny him his heritage.

"Harry said how he remembered that day, clear as if it were yesterday. He was ordered to get the morning post, with his uncle even encouraging his cousin to hit him with a stick if he didn't obey. So Harry got the post … and was amazed to find a letter addressed to him. The first one he'd received in his life. He described it to me … To Mr H. Potter, The Cupboard Under The Stairs, 4 Privet Drive … The cupboard under the stairs, I asked him, what did that mean?

"And he told me … that's where they bloody kept him, Dumbledore! Like some piece of vermin that had infected their house! They kept him in there for ten bloody years!"

No … no that couldn't be! Hermione shook her head violently, her breath coming in raspy waves. She didn't want to believe it … she wished she hadn't heard … oh, poor Harry! No wonder he kept that to himself.

But there was more.

"I guessed something was wrong when he first came to Grimmauld Place this Summer," Sirius continued. "I know the house is dark and dank, but I did my best with it in the short time I had. To make up for that, I filled the place with cakes and sweets and treats, but Harry didn't go near them, even though I saw him eyeing up the biscuit bin more than once. When I asked him why he didn't just help himself, he said that he'd never been allowed to before … and there was more than a hint in his look that suggested he'd have been punished for such an act at the Dursleys … so we can guess that they hit him, too."

No, Hermione thought desperately, don't let that be true!

"That explained to me why, when we visited Lily and James, Harry brushed me off when I tried to put a hand on his shoulder, to offer comfort when it all got a bit much for him. I barely touched him, but he shrugged me off as if the mere contact had scorched his skin.

"And you knew, Dumbledore! You must have known, or Minerva must have when she wrote the letter. And you left him there with those people!"

There was a heavy silence that seemed to pass from the office right through the walls to where Hermione was standing. She barely noticed, but her cheeks were wet with tears. And when Dumbledore spoke again, his voice sounded cracked as if he, too, was overcome with emotion.

"I … I did not know … I knew nothing of any of that," Dumbledore croaked, lowly. "We knew that Harry resided under the stairs, but we had no idea how big or small that space was."

"And you never thought to check?" Sirius hissed. "You just left him to suffer in the dark and the cold with only spiders for company?"

"Arabella Figg was our eyes and ears, and she never mentioned -"

"Arabella is a batty old squib who favours cats over people!" Sirius thundered. "Harry is too important to be entrusted to such incompetence! Which is why I will challenge your incompetence if you do not bring that vile slug, Snape, to heel. Why do you even keep him around?"

"If, or when, Lord Voldemort rises again, we will have need of Severus and his unique skill set," Dumbledore replied, cryptically.

"His spying, you mean?" Sirius scoffed. "And how do you intend to blackmail him this time? Last time it was to make up for his betrayal of Lily … do you intend to use that again? Do you hope that he looks at Harry and sees the similarity of Lily's eyes, or something? Because if you are relying on a fully grown man to look into the face of a teenage boy, and remember his delusional obsession with the boy's mother as a reason to help you, then that is sick, Albus … dangerously, dangerously sick."

Hermione utterly agreed. She scowled at the idea, turning her tears into angry ones.

"Severus is committed to doing all that he can to protect Lily's son," Dumbledore argued.

"Then it should be the work of barely a moment for you to use that inducement to get him to cancel these absurd detention punishments," Sirius replied, smoothly. "I expect it done, Albus, and I expect it today. If you do not, then you will force me to take matters into my own hands."

"Threats, Sirius?"

"No … promises," Sirius warned. "I will go political if I have to. I will go to the Governors, even the Department of Education if I must. Snape must be brought to heel … and I'll give you one chance to do it yourself. No one will harm Harry so long as I have strength and breath to prevent it.

"Which brings me to another point … what do you know about Hermione Granger?"

Out on the staircase, Hermione's jaw fell open. How could she be a topic of conversation?

Dumbledore seemed just as perplexed. "Miss Granger? I will need to know more of your interest in her before I tell you anything. What reason could you possibly have to ask me about her?"

Hermione was scarcely less intrigued to know the answer to this herself.

"Harry has mentioned this Hermione character a couple of times lately," Sirius explained. "When we were at Godric's Hollow, when Harry wouldn't let me console him, he tried to conjure a wreath of red roses to place on Lily's headstone. But he was far too upset to focus enough to cast the spell. The only thing he was able to say through his sniffles was that he bet Hermione Granger could have done it, as she probably knew the spell.

"Then in his letter to me, he angrily ranted for three whole paragraphs about how Snape had also insulted this girl during the class that led to Harry's punishment. He was more furious about that than what Snape had said about him. Harry has had to put up with that since he arrived here - gossip and finger pointing and snide remarks - but he has never once flown off the handle like this."

"No, I agree that this incident was curiously out of character," Dumbledore mused. "Harry always comes across as shy and quiet, and his professors are all very pleased about his academic performance. You think that comments about Miss Granger tipped him over the edge?"

"I think there are two key points here … the first is that this is yet more evidence of Snape insulting a student and being an absolute bastard, and the second is the nature of Harry's connection to this girl. The first point I will leave to you to handle, the second comes under my remit."

"How so?"

"Like I said, I wont allow anyone to hurt Harry ever again. So if this girl is another of the raving fans trying to get close to him, to exploit him for stories to sell to the highest bidder, then I will not stand for it. So, who is Hermione Granger?"

"Give me a solid reason to answer you, and I shall."

"Very well," Sirius huffed. "If I didn't know better, I would say that Harry has developed - or is well on the way to developing - something of a crush on this girl. As someone who doesn't open up easily, I merely want to make sure that she doesn't intend to hurt him. That could close him off forever."

Hermione blinked hard on the stairs as her heart shot up into her mouth. She was so alert to the world she swore each flap of her eyelids was sounding out like a percussion drum.

"Miss Granger is an affable and well-mannered young witch," Dumbledore was replying. "Certainly not the sort of malicious character you are afraid of. She is deeply intelligent and academically brilliant, with perhaps Harry, himself, being the only student who can match her in such fields."

"And are she and Harry friends?"

"I have never heard that they are. She also happens to be in Gryffindor, so chances of interaction between them are limited. I have never been made aware of any romantic link between them, either. And you should remember how fast the wheels of the Hogwarts Rumour Mill can spin. You know we keep an eye on all amorous students, to make sure they are conducting their relationships safely. If I recall, the events between yourself and Molly Prewett actually caused this protocol to be introduced."

"Yes, well, I'd rather not think about that," Sirius huffed crossly. "Some ghosts need to stay buried. So, there isn't anything going on with Harry and this girl?"

"I would be amazed to find that there was. They are both so reserved and taciturn that I couldn't even envisage how a relationship might be formed. But stranger things have happened."

"If you're referring to me and Molly again …"

"I wouldn't dream of it," Dumbledore replied, piously, though there was something of the light-hearted in his tone. "What I would suggest, if I may be so bold, is that you encourage Harry in his connection to Miss Granger, if one exists. She is not only Harry's one genuine peer here at Hogwarts, but she also has a lot to give in other ways. There are school projects that she is involved with that I swore an oath of secrecy not to reveal, but let me just say that she has a very big heart, a fact that I fear goes unseen by most. If Harry is able to find that within her, there could be the foundations of a very healthy and mutually satisfying relationship between them."

Hermione felt her face glowing red hot. A relationship with Harry … now that was something entirely new to consider. It was foolish, of course, because Harry wouldn't be interested in anything of the kind, and neither was she. They were penpals, they were academic high-fliers, there wasn't anything more than that to the situation.

But then, Hermione reminded herself, they were also partners for the Yule Ball. And it was going to be a proper date, they'd both agreed to that.

And, for the first time, Hermione felt the impact of that hit her fully … and it threatened to take the floor from beneath her feet. She actually slid a few steps down the spiral staircase as her thoughts washed through her. She and Harry were actually going to go on a date together! Wow. That was huge! In both their lives. And it had all come about so quickly.

But had it, really?

Hermione felt memories flood her brain. All that study time they'd spent together in the library, where Hermione did most of the talking and Harry never once told her to shut up or go away, and he subconsciously began packing spare quill nibs just for her. Little things, but viewed oh so differently in a slightly altered light. No reluctance from him to become penpals, no reluctance from her to defend his only friend, no reluctance from either side to agree to this date next month.

Maybe Dumbledore was right … maybe this foundation for a relationship really was there. Hermione simply shook her head in wonder as she considered it.

But then she heard movement on the stairs above her. Sirius Black was leaving the Headmaster's office. Hermione froze. What was she going to do? Hide in an alcove, make a run for it and hope for the best? Then something lodged painfully in her chest … she imagined Sirius confronting Harry about her, warning him to stay away. Hermione frowned at the thought … she couldn't allow that, she had to do something drastic.

So …

"Oh … it's you from earlier," Sirius commented as Hermione stepped out and blocked his path as he reached the foot of the staircase. "Can I help you?"

"No, I don't need any help, thank you. But perhaps I can help you, or at least help your worries about Harry."

"And how could you do that?"

"Because … I'm Hermione Granger."

Hermione pulled herself up to her full height and thrust out her hand. Sirius cocked a little smirk as he took it to shake.

"A pleasure to meet you," Sirius replied, then his eyes narrowed with understanding. "You heard, didn't you? You were outside the office when I spoke to Dumbledore just now?"

Hermione bit her lip nervously. This didn't seem like such a good idea anymore as Sirius Black stared sternly down at her. She nodded meekly and looked at her shoes.

"Yes, I was. I didn't mean to be, but I heard raised voices. Please don't tell the Headmaster on me. I don't want to get into trouble."

"Oh, my dear girl, if you were hovering outside Dumbledore's office for that long you can well believe that he knew you were there," Sirius quirked. "And if he knew and let you stay, he must have thought it was important that you overheard what we were talking about. He's a bit irritating like that. A right scupper to those of us who enjoy a bit of mischief in private!"

"I do not enjoy mischief!" Hermione protested shrilly.

"Then why were you eavesdropping?"

"I wasn't … alright, maybe I was. A bit. But you were talking about Harry and I just had to listen."

Sirius gave her a calculating look, as if he were weighing her up. He seemed to decide something about her as his expression softened. "Well, how about you walk with me to Ravenclaw Tower and tell me all about just why you had to listen? It's been years since I marauded through these halls and I'd need a map to get around these days."

"Oh. Okay," Hermione replied, cautiously. "It's this way."

So they began to walk. Sirius turned to her as they ambled along. "So, do you know Harry well?"

Hermione swallowed awkwardly. "That's … a difficult question to answer. It's complicated, but …"

Then she stopped abruptly, turning fully to face Sirius, her distress overcoming her.

"Oh, Mr Black! I need you to know that I would never hurt Harry!" Hermione blurted out, passionately. "Never, ever, ever. He's so kind and generous and caring and … those things you said about him, about his home life before you, I wish I could unhear them! But I can't, and I'm sure a bit of me broke inside when you said them. To think of what those people did to him … is it really true?"

Sirius looked down fondly, his expression the warmest he'd yet worn for Hermione. There was clearly more between them than she was letting on.

"The only part that I know for sure is true is about that god forsaken cupboard," Sirius replied, his jaw grinding. "The rest I'm just inferring, but I don't think I'm far wrong. Harry doesn't seem ready to open up about it just yet ... not to me, anyway."

"Then they really did keep him locked in a cupboard for all those years!" Hermione cried in a wretched voice. "I don't believe it! I don't want to. I'm Muggleborn, Mr Black, I know how little a cupboard under the stairs is. That's cruel! It's inhumane! Poor Harry."

"Muggleborn, eh?" Sirius smiled. "Harry's mother was Muggleborn. Did you know that?"

"No … no I didn't."

"And did you know that she was also considered the brightest witch of her class when she was here? Not quite the brightest with of her age, as Dumbledore thinks you are, but very bright all the same."

Hermione blushed hotly at the compliment and looked sheepishly down. "I didn't know that, either. And I don't know that I'm the brightest witch of the age. I just get good marks in class, that's all."

"There's more to claiming that title than mere academics," Sirius went on. "There needs to be something a little more substantial … and Dumbledore tells me you have that in spades, too."

"I don't know about that," Hermione mumbled, blushing harder than ever.

Sirius just grinned at this shy little witch before him. He liked her, without even knowing her. Perhaps Dumbledore was right about this, at least … maybe this connection should be encouraged.

"So … you know Harry, just not all that well?" Sirius asked.

Hermione nodded as they began scaling the Main Staircase. "I think that can be said about most people, though. Harry doesn't talk to anyone much."

"He talked a lot about you," Sirius told her. "I think he thinks highly of you. I got that much from him, anyway."

Hermione couldn't help but smile. It even made her eyes crinkle. "Well … I think a lot of him, too. I want you to know that, Mr Black, just as much as Harry. I would never do anything to intentionally hurt or upset him … and I would never sell a story about him to the media. That idea repulses me."

"I'm glad we think alike on the matter," Sirius nodded, approvingly. He was silent for a few moments, before eventually sighing contentedly. "Very well, Miss Granger, I'll permit you to be in Harry's life. That's the approbation you accosted me for anyway, isn't it?"

"Accosted? Well, I wouldn't say … oh, you're teasing me, aren't you?" Hermione huffed. "I can see where Harry gets his sarky sense of humour from. I'm going to have to watch out for you, aren't I?"

Sirius barked out a laugh. "My, you are the bossy sort, aren't you? I can see why Harry likes you. Lily, Harry's mother, was just the same … and if Harry is anything like James … well, let's just say it explains a lot!"

Hermione blinked at the comparison but was far too embarrassed to know what to say to it. By that time they had reached the door to the Ravenclaw Common Room. Sirius just stared at it a moment.

"We just knock, I suppose?" he mused. Then he reached up for the bronze eagle knocker and rapped it three times against the door.

An ethereal voice answered. "What came first? The chicken or the egg?"

"What? What the devil is this?" Sirius frowned, perplexed. Hermione giggled at him.

"It's a riddle. You have to answer it to enter the room."

"Well that's just nonsense!" Sirius huffed. "How absurd!"

"I think it's a very good way to test knowledge, actually," Hermione disagreed. "It's far more useful than just having a complicated password to remember, like we do at Gryffindor Tower."

"Maybe," Sirius replied. Then he grinned down at Hermione. "Then why don't you demonstrate this legendary intelligence and answer the question for us, Miss Granger!"

Hermione narrowed her eyes at the challenge. "Well, it's easy, isn't it? The egg obviously came first, because the first creature we would identify as a chicken would have to have undergone a genetic and biological mutation from another creature, to emerge from the egg as the form we know today as a chicken."

"Very good," said the ethereal voice, then the door swung open.

"Well … alright then," Sirius smirked.

"Sirius? Hermione? What are you doing here? And why are you here together?"

Both Sirius and Hermione turned to address the voice coming from inside the Common Room. It belonged to Harry and he sounded very confused.

Looking at Harry, after all she'd just learned about him, Hermione's urge to squeeze him as tight as she could was almost insatiable. Imagining all those horrors befalling him, imagining him suffering such cruelty … Hermione wanted to screech out against the universe and tug him close to her. But she knew that he wouldn't like that, so she had to find something to occupy her idle hands.

Then Sirius gave her the perfect thing.

"I got your letter," Sirius announced, entering the Ravenclaw Common Room and crossing to his Godson.

"And I thought this would be the most inventive way yet to give you my latest one," Hermione piped up from behind him. She quickly reached into her bag, took out a heavy letter and gave it to Sirius. "Mr Black, would you please give this to Harry?"

Sirius looked down at the parchment envelope in shrewd curiosity. "Alright. But what is it?"

"Never you mind," Harry snapped, snatching the letter from Sirius and stuffing it into his own satchel and out of sight. Then he turned to grin at Hermione. "Well, not exactly a Penny Black, is it, but I suppose it'll do!"

Hermione giggled at that. "I told you I'd be more creative than you. Though I am highly curious about how creative you were, with a certain Hufflepuff that I don't care to mention. That's a dismissal I cant wait to read about, so I don't expect to be kept waiting long."

"I've waited for over a week … so I think two should do for you!"

"Don't you dare!" Hermione warned, narrowing her eyes. "You've never seen me cross, have you? Trust me, you don't ever want to. It's not my best side."

"Is it the side that throws jugs of rat baby-making juice over greasy-haired Professors?" Harry teased.

"You did what?" Sirius hooted out with a laugh. Hermione grinned back coyly. "Oh that is priceless! You know what, Hermione Granger, I think I'm going to like you … I think I'm going to like you a very, very lot. Come on, you two … you can tell me all the details of this tale while we take a stroll down to Hagrid's."

"Why do you want to see Hagrid?" Harry asked, gathering up his things as the trio left the Common Room.

"Well, he still has the keys to a motorbike I leant him, oh, about thirteen years ago now. I think it's high time I got it back!"

Enjoying this story? Check out some of the others in my portfolio and don't forget my crossovers! They're worth a go, honest! Thanks for reading, and stay safe in these wacky times!