Chapter Text
“Hermione?” Sirius asked, his voice tired but the tone soft. “Are you alright, love?” The pet name slipped from his tongue naturally when he looked at her sitting up in bed, her face flushed and sleep-tousled curls wildly flaring out in all directions. His heart pounded as he caught himself staring and looked down at his slippers. She was an adult, but only by a few months. It wasn’t right for his heart to hammer in his chest and his breath to catch whenever she looked at him with such soul and passion for life. But he couldn’t help it.
“No.” She whispered so softly he almost didn’t catch it due to the racing of his heart and thoughts.
“May I come in?” he asked. Hermione nodded. He hesitantly sat on the edge of her bed. “Want to talk about it?”
“It’s my parents.”
Sirius frowned and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. His heart broke for the young witch, barely an adult, already having to go through things many witches and wizards never had to fear. “About what you had to do?”
Hermione nodded again. “I know they’ll be safe in Australia where no one knows who they are. But I might never get to see them again. They don’t even know I…” She cried, unable to finish the sentence and wrapped her arms around Sirius. He held her close as she cried. One of his hands traced gentle soothing patterns on her shoulder and she sighed before slumping further against him.
“It will be alright. I promise. When the war is over and Voldemort is dead, we’ll get them home safe. I don’t care if it takes all the money in Gringotts.”
“I don’t have all the money in Gringotts.”
“No, but I do. Practically. Ancient and noble house and all that nonsense.”
“I couldn’t ask you to do that.”
“You didn’t ask. I insist. If we can’t retrieve their memories on our own, we won’t stop searching until we find someone who can if that’s what you want. I promise.” Sirius held her in both arms as she cried and clung to him until her breathing slowed and he knew she was asleep. She had been through so much already in her life. It hurt him to consider. Yet, he couldn’t help the feeling of relief to have her in his arms. As if her warmth reached into his being and made him feel warm too, in the emotional sense. Still, he knew it wasn’t right. He gently shifted her onto the pillows and covered her up, barely resisting the urge to kiss her forehead on his way out. “Sweet dreams, angel.” He whispered as he shut the door.
Sirius stormed through the kitchen, slamming cabinets, and tossing ingredients on the counter too harshly under the ruse of making breakfast. His anger raged at what Harry, Ron, and Hermione intended to do. Even without all the details, he had a good enough idea to know it was not acceptable. His magic crackled in the air, dark and brooding like the man it came from, though it would never hurt the inhabitants of the house.
“I’m sorry, Sirius!” Harry shouted. “Don’t you see I have no choice? It has to be me! The prophecy said-!”
“Screw the damned prophecy!”
“I know you think it’s nonsense. But our wands share the same core! I can see inside his head sometimes! We’re connected. You can’t deny that! It has to be me!”
“No godson of mine needs to spend his life on the run hunting Voldemort or whatever it is you three are going after! Your parents would kill me! Your mother would bring me back from the dead just to kill me again if I let you go through with this!” he shouted, staring so intently at a glass bottle he had to look away when it started to rattle, as if it would explode.
“Would she really?” Harry asked with a grin, knowing his smiles often brought Sirius out of fits of rage. There was no winning the argument. Distraction however…
“I know what you’re doing! It’s not going to work. I’ll tell you all about your mother any time you like, except right now. Right now, you are going to promise me to stay safe and let us help you with whatever mission it is that old bastard gave you! You have the entire Order of the Phoenix behind you. And you have me!”
“I’m grateful for that. Especially you. But it has to be me.”
“You are your father’s son.” Sirius ranted, slicing a knife too hard through a slab of bacon, and embedding it in the cutting board. “Stubborn. Single-minded. Hot-headed-“ He added a new insult with each failed attempt to pry the knife from the old wood.
“And here I was afraid you worshiped my dad like he was perfect like Snape has always claimed.” Harry teased. “Though I got the impression you were the more hot-headed of the bunch.”
Sirius sighed and stared at the knife in defeat with tears forming in his eyes. “You aren’t wrong. I miss your father every day. There was no talking him out of something he set his mind to either. You remind me of him some days so much it hurts.”
Harry stood up and took the knife from his godfather, who clearly had no idea how to cook. “Sit down and tell me about him. Bacon is no match for the famous Harry Potter.”
“Your father’s son.” Sirius shook his head and sat down sadly. His rage deflated like a muggle balloon, he started to talk. “My heart hurts just thinking about him. I do nearly every second of every day. You should have seen how he pursued your mother. ‘One witch is no match for James Potter! I’ll win her affections one day!’ He used to be so sure of himself. But he was right. At the end of our sixth year, she started to talk to him more. And by mid-year our seventh, they were inseparable. It was as if she had always been one of us. She loved all of us too. When she asked us the truth about Remus, having already figured it out, she smiled at him and offered to help heal him whenever he needed. And your father sat there and looked at me with that same cocky ‘I told you so’ smile you get sometimes. He knew then he had truly won her over. He dared me to tease him. But I didn’t. I loved her too.
Whenever I had a bad day or got mad at news from home, he wouldn’t shout at me. He would sit quietly until I was done rambling or crying or whatever and then come back with some smartass remark and an offer to play quidditch or sneak into Honeydukes. Always with that same grin. I already lost your father Harry. And no matter what you say otherwise, it was my fault. I can’t lose you too. And Hermione. And Ron.” he quickly added, unwilling to give away his highly inappropriate feelings for the little witch sleeping upstairs. The one who had let him hold her when she felt most afraid. The angel who trusted him and let him see her afraid, an emotion she very rarely spared a thought to. His feelings weren’t inappropriate in a sexual way, but he couldn’t deny how badly he wanted to hold her. To kiss her. To feel the softness of her body in his arms…
“Someone has to stop him.” Harry said in a blunt tone that left no room to question it.
“Let us help you. Please.” Sirius begged. “I’d do anything.”
“We have to keep this secret. Just between the three of us like Dumbledore asked. If word gets back to Voldemort what we’re doing, he might never be defeated.”
“You’re saying you don’t trust me.” Sirius sighed, his head filling with all the ways he had let down his friends and himself over the years. He could understand not wanting to trust him after all he’d done.
“I trust you with my life, Sirius. But we can’t risk bringing anyone else into this. I’m sorry. Dumbledore gave strict orders.”
“Dumbledore is dead!” he shouted, the rage coming back in full force to replace the emotions of sorrow and regret. Anything was better than the regret he always lived in.
“I know. I was there.”
Sirius pulled at his hair in frustration as he sat with his head in his hands. “No child should have to go through what you three have.” It broke his heart to consider it. He tried not to and yet it always crept back to him. The many, many ways he had failed his godson and his best friends.
“I agree. That’s why we have to take him down. He must be stopped.”
“Good morning!” Hermione said cheerily from the doorway. “Harry, that smells wonderful!”
Sirius stood up and stormed out of the room, kicking an old chair on his way out. His emotions won that battle. Just when he thought it wouldn’t and couldn’t get any worse, he realized how rude he’d been to the one witch he wanted to hold close and make smile. Not just that. He couldn’t even go through a single morning without ruining things for her. He walked upstairs, knowing he was unworthy, and reaching new lows of self-hatred.
“Sirius?” Hermione called through the door. “I know you don’t want to talk to us right now but I brought you and Buckbeak some breakfast. May I come in?” Silence answered her. Though she could easily get the door open, Hermione sighed and charmed the plate to levitate outside the door for when he came out. “Alright. I’ll leave it here for you. And I’m sorry. I know this isn’t easy on you.”
Sirius cried and leaned his forehead against the old, stained wall beside where he sat on the floor. Her apology proved yet again that he let down everyone around him. They were talking about leaving the safety of his house on a suicide mission and he couldn’t even control his temper enough to tell them how much he cared. Or enjoy what could be his last moments for them. Buckbeak brushed his face against the man’s shoulder as he wept, wishing he could be strong enough for them. Wishing he knew how to help them.
Hermione had been trying to sleep for over two hours. It wasn’t coming easily. The horcrux hunt was fast approaching and the trio didn’t have the faintest idea of where to start. While scouting locations that may have been important to Tom Riddle was a reasonable quest for Dumbledore, Harry, Ron, and Hermione had nothing more than Harry’s retellings of a few memories to go from. She constantly wondered why Dumbledore couldn’t bother to leave them notes or instructions in detail but almost immediately berated herself knowing how dangerous those sorts of things could be in the wrong hands. She was certain the memories were likely destroyed after being shown to Harry.
“No! You can’t take him!” Sirius shouted down the hall, making Hermione jump. “Hagrid, no!”
Hermione hopped out of bed and into her slippers, going into his room to at least wake him up so he didn’t wake Harry.
“Not the dementors! I’m innocent!”
“Sirius.” Hermione said, hesitantly standing beside the bed.
“Innocent…”
“Sirius.” she said more firmly, shaking his shoulder.
He awoke with a jump and frantically looked around the room, grey eyes landing on warm brown ones, causing tears to form in his eyes that he tried to hide from her. “Hermione.”
“You were having a nightmare. You’re alright now.”
Sirius sat still for a minute, catching his breath, and letting the nightmares fade away. “Did I wake you?”
“No, I couldn’t sleep.” She sat down on the side of the bed and touched his arm. He flinched away from the comforting touch, though he wanted nothing more. He didn’t deserve it. She looked at her feet and tried to wipe a tear from her eye without him seeing.
“Go back to bed. I don’t need anyone to feel sorry for me.” Though the words came from his mouth, Sirius could hardly believe what he had said. He didn’t mean to be rude to one of the few people who actually wanted to be around him. Twice in one day to boot!
“I don’t.” she said sternly. “At first, I did but you’ve done enough feeling sorry for yourself to not need the rest of us to.”
He looked up at her then, his grey eyes harsh with hurt and confusion. “What?”
“You heard me. I know it was more horrible than words can describe for you being locked up in Azkaban for all of those years. I also see how much the nightmares haunt you every night but now that you’re out of there, you are acting like you’re still a prisoner. You’re too busy feeling sorry for yourself instead of thinking of other ways to help and make your life worth living. You’ve been given a second chance and you’re wasting it. And it’s your own damn fault you went to prison in the first place with that false confession and going after Peter. I don’t feel sorry for you. That’s not why I came in here.”
Sirius sat there, stunned as her words sank into him. It was the message he needed to hear but she was the last person he expected it from. A few minutes passed with the two of them glaring at each other though his eyes softened the more he looked at her. “So, why did you come in here?”
“I said I don’t feel sorry for you, not that I think you should have nightmares. I don’t like seeing you suffer.”
“I deserve it.” he said, remembering all the times he had been too quick to anger and taken it out on others and all the pranks he’d pulled at others expense over the years, not to mention how he’d acted that very morning.
“No, you don’t. You’re a good man, Sirius.”
“You really believe that?”
“I know it. You always try to do better once you realize you’ve made a mistake.” She put her hand on his arm again and he didn’t flinch this time, instead closing his eyes and enjoying the warmth of her touch.
“You see the good in everybody.” It came out harsher than Sirius meant it to but she understood.
“I try to.”
“Why is that?”
“We all struggle sometimes to make the right decisions. Everyone has things in their past they would like to pretend never happened.”
“Even you?” he asked surprised to hear such wise advice from someone who seemed so innocent.
“Even me. Do you want to talk about your nightmares?”
“No. Want to talk about why you couldn’t sleep?”
“No, but I think we need to.”
Sirius looked into her eyes and saw his own questions reflected back. He wanted to show her the thoughts he couldn’t say aloud but feared the worst, as life had taught him to do. He rested a hand on her arm and when the edges of her mouth twisted up in a smile instead of flinching away in disgust, he instead caressed her cheek. Hermione leaned into his touch and enjoyed the tingling sensation of being touched so gently. No one had ever touched her with such reverence.
“You know we’re going to be leaving soon, at least some nights. I’m not sure how long we’ll be gone sometimes. It could be dangerous. I don’t want to have any regrets when I go.”
Sirius nodded, understanding wanting to have affairs in order. He tried to not dwell on arguing with her and trying to insist they not go. He knew it would do no good, having already been attempted by several people older and wiser as well as himself several times, including that morning’s disaster of a start.
“We – Harry, Ron, and I, need you to be alright. We need you more than we ever have. We trust you, Sirius. You mean so much to us. Please, please don’t do anything rash or take unnecessary risks while we’re gone. I… we couldn’t bear it.”
“Do you really have to leave?”
“Not right away. We’ll do as much as we can from here but there is a time when we’ll need to go off on our own. Before you ask, I can’t tell you why. I can’t and I won’t.”
“I understand.” Sirius sadly rested his hand on hers. Her breath caught at the intensity of his smoky gaze in the moonlight filtering through the window. “I feel like I’m only now really getting to know you all. I’ve barely had any time with my godson, and you… and Ron.” he added like an afterthought.
“Me too.” A single tear slid down Hermione’s cheek. Sirius gently wiped it away.
“I’m sorry I’ve been such an ass lately.”
Hermione giggled despite the tear. Sirius looked at her questioningly. She let out a breath and gave a sad, teasing smile before whispering, “Only lately?”
Sirius laughed his barking laugh, laughter turning to a huge grin as he tried to stay quiet to not wake others sleeping in the house. As harsh as the day had been, as dark as his thoughts were, she made him see the good in the situation. The light. Her gentle teasing showed him he was loved. He rested his hands on her shoulders. “Fine, I’m sorry I’m an ass.”
Hermione smiled at his expression. She had been holding back tears of sadness so hard that they broke free in laughter. “You’re not always an ass.”
“No? Tell me a time I wasn’t.”
“You made me tea yesterday.”
“A house-elf could make you tea.”
“But you chose to.”
“I chose to be a house-elf.” Sirius grinned and Hermione laughed from exhaustion and the absurdness of their position, sitting awake in the early morning hours with a war going on outside joking about house-elves and name calling. Her heart fluttered as she saw the way he smiled at her. “You should sleep.”
“So should you.”
“Would I- “ Sirius started, his heart racing painfully as he fought an internal battle over how to ask the question. “Would it- “ He shook his head. “Stay with me? Only to rest. I promise I won’t be inappropriate.” He knew he looked as vulnerable as he felt and hoped she wouldn’t think badly of him for asking. Having her there made him feel like he wasn’t alone. That as long as she was there, he would never be alone.
Hermione nodded and used her wand to close the door before slipping it back into her robe pocket so no one else would see her in his bed and get the wrong impression. Sirius laid on his back and left plenty of room for her beside him. She scooted close and chose to rest her head on his chest, fitting perfectly in his arm. He hid his face in her bushy hair to hide the tears in his eyes from feeling complete, whole, and loved for the first time in a very, very long time. Her words, no matter how harsh, were never meant that way. They were exactly what he needed.