SIX
JUNE 22nd, 1995
The next day was filled with all three of them worrying and trying to pass time. Dumbledore had owled back, requesting to come later that day and none of the inhabitants of Grimmauld Place knew what to do with themselves.
Hermione sleepily opened up the door when Sirius’ knocking had woken her up from a nap.
“Argh! I can’t just sit around doing fucking nothing! It’s driving me fucking mad!” He pushed past her, pulling at his long ragged hair. “I can’t fucking do it anymore, just sitting around feeding sodding Buckbeak and twidling my fucking thumbs!”
“Say ‘fuck’ one more time, Sirius,” She grumbled, rubbing her eyes.
“Fuck!” He flopped down on the bed, throwing his arm over his face. For the first time, Hermione saw the young man in him. He was acting like a petulant adolescent. She put her hands on her hips, wand gripped in her balled up fist.
“You’re so ridiculous,” She muttered, “What would you like to do then? Since your life has apparently become unbearable.”
“Fucking hell, I don’t know. Literally anything .” He whined.
“That’s not very specific,” She smiled at him, moving to sit on the bed with him. Sirius grabbed her and threw her down, laughing as she squealed. “Ah! No!" Padfoot was sitting on top of her, licking the side of her face, "Sirius! Get off!" She tried to push the large dog off her but his cold nose pressed her face down, "Argh, Pad-” Hermione was cut off by the doorbell ringing… and Walburga’s screams. Sirius shifted, standing swiftly, wand out.
“Stay here,” He whispered, walking down the stairs. Hermione stood at the landing, listening. Hermione heard Sirius call out, though she couldn’t hear the response over Walburga. There was a loud bang and the screams stopped.
“Sirius, let us retire to the sitting room, I would love a bit of sparkling pumpkin juice if you’ve got it,” It was Professor Dumbledore. Hermione gasped and backed into her room, closing the door softly behind her. She wasn’t ready to face the Headmaster. She thought she was ready, but she couldn't look into the eyes of a dead man. A man who knew so much of what was to happen and who was about to know much more. He'd want to know more than she could tell him. There were so many things that she might tell him, or be forced to tell him. Professor Dumbledore was a truly gifted Legilimens and most likely not afraid to use it. Flashes of the war she had faced invaded her mind, no matter how hard she tried to force herself to not think about it. Clear your mind.
There was a soft knock on her door, “Hermione?” it was Remus. He pushed the door open and sighed at the state of her; wild and panicked. “It’s going to be alright, Hermione,” he told her as she shook her head, doubts filling her once again.
She was terrified. “Remus I can’t, he might ask for details I can’t give,” she whispered, the marks on her covered forearm twinging painfully. Remus was next to her, holding her hand. She shook her head again as he tried to pull her towards the door.
“You’re okay, Hermione. You don’t have to say anything you don’t want to.”
“Remus, he’s a Legilimens,” panic flashed in her eyes, “he could make me see what happened so he can see it… And I cannot do that. I can’t relive it.”
“He wouldn’t do that,” Hermione frowned, wondering if that were really true. “I will make sure he doesn’t. Don’t lock eyes with him, if it makes you worried. Sirius and I will be there the whole time. Come on, love,” She let him lead her down the stairs as he murmured encouragements to her. As they walked into the kitchen, Sirius’ eyes darted to their intertwined hands before he stood.
“She’s had a bit of a shock, Albus,” Remus told Dumbledore, pulling Hermione to a seat, “I think it’s catching up a little with you being here. She’s worried you’ll force her to relive memories…” Remus took a seat next to her. She tightened her grip on his rough hand when he tried to pull away.
“Miss Granger. Remus and Sirius said they have confirmed your identity. Sirius has informed me of the information you gave them,” said Dumbledore, softly. Hermione took a deep breath and turned to glare at Sirius.
“Ah, there she is,” Sirius smirked at her, though no humor flashed in his eyes.
Hermione turned her glower from Sirius, her annoyance fueling her to make it through the conversation ahead, “Hello, Professor. I’m sorry he spoke before I had a chance to. I had some thoughts about how to stop Harry from winning without alerting the Death Eaters.”
Dumbledore sighed, folding his hands, “Thank you, Miss Granger, but I do not intend to stop Harry from facing Lord Voldemort in two nights time.” Hermione and Remus gasped as Sirius stood once more.
“What?!” Sirius yelled, “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me !” He kicked his chair and sent it flying across the room. “You can’t let Harry-” He broke off, swearing.
“Sirius, please,” the Headmaster said, quietly. He did not seem surprised at Sirius’ outburst.
“NO!” He screamed. Remus let go of Hermione’s hand and stood, grabbing Sirius by the shoulders. “Moony, he can’t! He can’t!”
“I know, Sirius. Let’s just listen to Albus for just a moment,” Remus implored him. Sirius shook his head, fists clenched. “Padfoot. Come on.” Sirius continued to seethe but sat with Remus.
Hermione stared at the old wizard, “Sir, I don’t know if you understand-”
“I can assure you, Miss Granger, I do,” said Dumbledore, sharply. Hermione closed her mouth and looked round to Remus. His eyes flashed a bright silver briefly and he shook his head.
“But-”
“Sirius. I have my reasons-” Dumbledore held up his hand as Sirius opened his mouth again, “Enough. Listen to me. Voldemort will be performing ‘ Sacrificii Aqua Immortu’. ”
“What is that?” Hermione asked.
“It is the only thing that can bring a person fully back from the brink of death.” Dumbledore told them, “When Voldemort killed Lily,” both Remus and Sirius flinched, “The spell rebounded. We know this because of the scar on Harry’s head. That rebound did not kill Voldemort. It brought him as close to death as possible. We’ve known he’s been in hiding since his essence left Professor Quirrell when Harry defeated him. He has been living as something half-alive. This will bring him back.”
“So why don’t we stop that, Albus?” asked Remus.
“The magic can be completed with any person that doesn’t follow Voldemort.”
Sirius snarled, “you’re saying he wants to use Harry for dramatics?”
“Essentially, yes. I assume he likes the imagery of using the boy who almost brought about his death to bring about his new life.”
“So why can’t we stop that, sir?” Hermione said, looking at Sirius’ anguished face.
“You say that Harry will live through the ordeal, so I think it is important that Voldemort fight him. If Harry doesn’t end up taking that Portkey, Voldemort will go to more violent lengths to get to him, and in that, he will still be able to come back using any other ‘enemy’,” Dumbledore turned to look at Hermione. “If the current relationships of Harry, Ron, and Hermione continue in this way, I assume you know that Harry has a much larger battle to face.”
“Yes,” Hermione whispered. When he continued to look expectantly at her she said, “You’re right about the Horcruxes.”
“ Horcruxes? ” Remus and Sirius gasped together.
“Yes,” said Dumbledore, sadly, “A topic which we will discuss in the near future. I am letting the events of June 24th unfold as Miss Granger remembers. After which, we will strategize our next move. I do not want to hear any arguments about this, Sirius.” Sirius swore and slammed his fist on the table. “In the meantime, I think we should move you, Miss Granger, to a new safehouse.”
“No!” Hermione exclaimed, eyes locking with Sirius. She flushed, clearing her throat, “I’m sorry, but no. That is non-negotiable. I will be staying here at Grimmauld Place. I want to be here.” Dumbledore looked between the three of them with a small smile.
“Alright, that is fine. Soon there will be a new Fidelius Charm which will make it a much safer. As of now, you’re still living under the Death Fidelius that Lady Black left in her wake. I will reach out to you all soon. Sirius, would you like to be on the grounds the night of the task?”
“Yes,” Sirius bit out, still glaring at the Headmaster. Dumbledore nodded and stood. Remus rose with him and shook his hand and led him out to the front door.
Hermione went to busy herself by making dinner from the now fully stocked stores. Her heart was racing and she blinked fiercely to stop the tears from spilling down her cheeks.
“Hermione,” Sirius said and she turned to find him staring at her. “Why did you want to stay here? I’ve never heard someone talk to Dumbledore that way.” Hermione scoffed, “Well, besides me.”
“Something to know about Dumbledore,” she turned back to dinner, “is that he has a lot of plans that aren’t….pleasant. I don’t intend for a lot of them to come to fruition this time around. He’s a great man and an exceptional wizard, but he has made, and will make, some very foolish decisions.”
“Like this one,” Sirius grumbled, thinking about how disappointed Lily would be, “But why did you want to stay here, though?”
“Well, you,” she turned again, leaning against the counter, a blush painting her cheeks, “I like being here with you. You make me feel…” she paused, “safe.” Sirius’ chest swelled slightly with pride, “Even when you try to interrupt me every ten minutes and boss me around. I...I just want you to know that I am with Harry. Every step of the way. I will always put him first. I will always fight to keep him as protected and as happy as possible. He is my first priority.”
“Do you… are you and Harry, you know, together, in the future?” Sirius looked uncomfortable. Hermione couldn’t help but laugh. First, at the absurdity of her and Harry being together, and second, bitterly, at the fact that Harry was dead and buried in her time.
“No. Definitely not,” the sauce behind her bubbled and she turned back to stir it with her wand. Using magic again had come to her as simply as breathing. It was like she hadn’t missed a beat. “Harry is my best friend,” she said simply. If anything, she would have pursued a relationship with Ronald. They had kissed, finally, for the first time the night of the Battle of Hogwarts. Hermione hadn’t thought about her almost-relationship with Ron since then. The past several years all of her relationships had been short-lived and very insignificant.
“I’m glad he has you,” Sirius said as Remus reentered the kitchen, shabby as ever. Sirius stood and turned to Remus, “Moony-”
“I know. But I think we have to trust Dumbledore.”
“Fuck that! If Prongs and Lily knew that we were letting Harry just run headfirst into danger-”
“I know, Pads. But James would have also wanted us to trust Dumbledore,” Remus said as he turned to face Hermione. Sirius' jaw clenched in resignation but he stayed quiet. “The clothes work alright?” Remus had picked up several different pieces of clothing, magical and Muggle alike. Hermione was wearing a simple pair of jeans and a light purple jumper. She'd requested all long sleeves, and he'd thankfully listened.
“They’re great, Remus. Thank you. You’ll stay for dinner?”
“Course he will,” Sirius muttered from the table, leaning himself back on a chair, “His stores were even sadder than ours,” he smiled slightly as the werewolf came to sit next to him.
“You don’t have to cook for us, Hermione,” Remus said, conjuring dinnerware from the cabinets.
“Oi, we’re keeping her big secret, it’s the least she could do,” Sirius retorted. Hermione twitched her wand and the chair Sirius was leaning back in wobbled and fell back, stopping just before it slammed to the ground. Sirius let out a yell and Hermione smirked as the chair righted itself.
Sirius let out a barking laugh and leaned back again. This time Hermione laughed as the chair hit the floor.