The Biggest Sacrifice

Thursday the 25th of December 1975

”Dora, no.” Hermione heard through cotton wool ears, feeling a small finger poking into her cheek followed by a soft chuckle and a sigh. “Leave her alone, Nymphadora.”

The poking stopped and allowed Hermione to get a feel of her surroundings. She knew she was in her bed but she was awfully uncomfortable and it felt like multiple things were poking into her side, probably the diamonds on her dress but she didn’t want to move to find out, not even when the toddler poking at her face decided it was a good time to sit on her stomach.

“IT’S CHRISTMASSSSSSS!” The door banged open, slamming against the wall making Dora jump and Hermione open her heavy eyes to hold the girl so she didn’t fall off the bed when someone else – James, jumped on it. “How lazy you all are – excited for you present, Little Dora.” Dora clapped her hands and nodded her head, moving to sit on James instead.

“Santa come?” She asked with wide eyes, scrunching up her face as her hair changed to a white mess and Andy laughed.

“We’ll have to go and see – though first, perhaps we should let Mi’ and mummy get changed, why don’t we go wake up Sirius?” James asked, giving Hermione a quick grin as she smiled in appreciation, picking up the toddler and walking towards the door before stopping and turning around. “Ted’s passed out in the sitting room with dad, by the way.”

Andy groaned and watched him go, rubbing her hands over her face and turning to look at the clock on Hermione’s bedside table. “Why does he always have to wake up so early – it’s 7 o’clock for Merlin’s sake.” Hermione chuckled but nodded her head.

It had been like that since she was a child, James waking up early for Christmas no matter what time he went to sleep the night before and then coming into each room screaming his head off. When she was younger she had loved it, but now when she felt foggy from her night activities, well she wasn’t so sure any more.

Still she pulled herself up from her bed as Andy did, the woman moving slowly – she stopped at the top of the stairs before shaking her head and walking away and to the room she usually stayed in. Hermione shut the door behind her, she could hear the sounds of James and Dora laughing as Sirius grumbled something.

A shower followed by comfortable clothes would make the day much better. And it did for a few seconds until she opened her door and caught sight of Sirius.

He was grumbling to himself, walking towards the stairs with low waisted pyjama bottoms, thin dark hair in a line of his lower stomach and his arms raised as he pulled a top over his head, the fabric falling softly and not doing much to avert her eyes until his hand raised to run through his messy waves.

For a second she felt very unattractive in her own trackies and baggy jumper, her feet curling against the wood of the hallways, her hands reaching up to try and tidy the messy bun – when silver eyes met her own and a small smile curled around his lips.

It was hard to doubt it then and she let him guide her down the stairs with a softer smile on her face, friendly and totally innocent.

…

The larger than normal group sat in the sitting room, cups of teas and coffees in their hands, thanks to Poppy who also seemed to have taken the job as the photographer for the day – her large eyes filled with tears as she talked about James’ first Christmas, and Hermione’s first with the family and how much they were growing. Her baby Miss and Mister.

“There, there Poppy – they aren’t that grown up yet.” Euphemia whispered to the elf, sitting her down beside her and wrapping an arm around her shaking shoulders as James and Hermione both blushed. “Now why don’t we focus on presents, we have so many this year.” She grinned and turned to the kids.

“Go on Dora, practice your reading and hand them out.” Fleamont encouraged, though they all knew the three year old was far from being able to read but she took the challenge all the small, stumbling forward, to the large pile of presents under the tree.

She frowned at the tags, trying to read words that meant nothing before turning to her father with questioning eyes. He chuckled, looked at the present, moving to whisper the name in her ear.

“Unca Fea.” She grinned as she spoke, moving forward to present the gift, placing it on his lap and excepting a kiss to the head with a giggle – her hair turning to match Fleamont’s. She moved back to the presents, standing beside her father so he could hand her the wrapped gifts. “Jamie and...’ily-flowa.”

“Thank you Dora...really?” Lily sent a smile to the small girl before turning her head to frown at James who wasn’t paying that much attention to her but instead was focused on doing some complicated handshake with the two year old in exchange for his gift.

“Remoose.” Dora spoke next when she was done with James, dragging out her vowels and grinning as the werewolf shyly grinned back, making sure to take the present gently from her.

Hermione wondered if he would ever get passed the part of being nervous around the Tonks’ but then she couldn’t blame him. If the two were to get together later, it might put an even bigger damper on the relationship for Remus to know he had watched his soulmate grow up from being a child – the thought made her cringe.

But she promised to help them get past it if they went down that road. To assure Remus that it wasn’t like he had been lusting after a baby, that when he fell for Dora, it was because she had grown up and was the sweet, funny adult that Hermione Granger had once known.

An hour later and their presents were open, Hermione smiling down at the amount of books, sweets and clothes she had received from everyone – only stopping on the necklace from her parents, eyes staring down at the simple Potter crest, a small ruby covering the hole where the chain slipped through.

“Mum, dad this is too much – you already gave me the necklace last night and -”

“Nonsense, that was a family relic that will be passed down again when you have your own children – this one is all for you.” Euphemia spoke, shaking her head and moving forward to pick up the necklace, moving Hermione’s curls out of the way to fasten the chain. “I also happen to think this compliments your other necklace nicely.”

The woman moved away before Hermione could say anything else, her hand reaching up to touch the necklace Sirius had given her, never taken off even when her diamonds had covered it. Her eyes looked up to the boy, a soft smile on his face.

…

“What are you reading?”

Hermione didn’t need to look up to move her feet out of the way, her eyes remained glued to the page before her, focusing on the words of her book. “Zach got me this fascinating book on the rights of magical beings...did you know -”

“Probably not, but you can tell me when Christmas is over.” James suggested with a cheeky grin as Hermione huffed, her eyes looking over the page as Sirius sat himself down in the single chair by the window, lifting up his top to show off his stomach as he groaned.

“My pants no longer fit.”

“Maybe your fat arse shouldn’t have stopped after seconds and dessert.”

“That would be an insult to Poppy – Merlin, I wish Kreacher knew how to cook like her.”

Hermione bristled at the sound of Kreacher. Truth was, she had tried not to think about him since her time here. He wouldn’t be the same elf that Hermione Granger had had a chance to change, but instead the bitter old house-elf who loved his Mistress and despised everyone else.

“Actually I don’t fucking care if Kreacher can cook, nothing could make that house nicer – not even my demanded presence.” The Potter siblings turned to stare at Sirius as he sighed, resting his head back against the chair. It was only then that Hermione took in his appearance, shoes on and bag resting on the side of the sofa.

“What do you mean demanded presence?”

“Take a look...wicked bitch of Islington has called me home.” Hermione stood up, not caring about how close she was to him, reaching for his hands to snatch the letter. This is what Regulus had warned her about and she had failed to even get it before it landed in his hands. “I thought it might be wishing me a happy Christmas but…”

Hermione tuned him out as she stared at the letter.

Dear Sirius,

Your presence is required at home. We will be expecting your return before the end of the evening, and there will be consequences is you fail to show.

Walburga Black.

“Love how she can’t even sign it mother – not that it matters, I have been called -”

“You can’t go.” Hermione spoke, cutting off Sirius and throwing the letter onto the table as though it had burnt her finger tips. It felt like it had, it felt dirty and as though Walburga’s soul had been placed into the object.

Sirius narrowed his eyes at her for a second, shifting himself in his seat as he looked up at Hermione. “What?”

“You. Can. Not. Go.”

“I know you’ll miss me but I can’t exactly avoid them, not when I’m still underage at least.” Sirius explained as though it was obvious, a small smirk on his face but his silver eyes were still narrowed. “And I’ll see you both in a couple of weeks so it’s not like -”

“Are you stupid?” Hermione snapped, not caring how his eyes flashed nor how he stood up from his seat, glaring down at her as though he was actually insulted. They stood toe to toe, seeming to try and find something in the others eyes.

“Hermione.” James mumbled, his hand on the small of her back.

“Do you not realise what it is this letter is saying?” Hermione asked tightly, gesturing back to the letter as Sirius frowned and widened his eyes. He couldn’t be this stupid, and she knew he wasn’t, but if he wanted to play the dumb idiot then who was she to deny him.

“That mother dearest wants me home.” Sirius answered slowly, as though English wasn’t her first language, like it was her being the idiot.

“And why now?” His jaw tensed and even James let out a sigh – at least someone else in this room seemed to get it. “I highly doubt she wants to spend Christmas with you.” He didn’t look offended by that implication, more amused.

“Maybe she had a change of heart.”

“Or maybe her first son, and heir to the whole fucking Black family, is home for the first time since turning sixteen.” It was obvious what she was hinting at, for her and seemingly for James whose whole body seemed to tense beside her.

“So she wants to throw me a party? It’s not that big of a deal.” Avoidance, that was how Sirius dealt with it. Despite his hatred towards his family, there was something inside of him that still believed there might be more there.

In a way she could understand it. Family was a big thing, a thing that no one ever wanted to believe was cruel and horrid – and Sirius seemed to internally wave between the ideas, eager to go back and stuck up the tension before giving them a fuck you and leaving. He always went back to them...called upon like Kreacher.

“I don’t think that’s what she’s getting at, Pads.” James added as Sirius’ jaw tensed.

“Then maybe she could get to the point quicker.” He spoke harshly, frowning down at her and reminding her of the angry man Hermione Granger had once known. “I haven’t got all -”

“Your family stands on a different side than us, Sirius, a side fully allied with him, and what could be a better time than now as to get the Black heir into his gang.” Hermione finally spelt out for him. He didn’t seem surprised, though his eyebrows raised in some mock facade he wanted to portray.

“I’m sixteen -”

“He doesn’t care about that, the younger the better.”

“Well Voldemort sounds like a right nonce.”

“Think about it logically, Sirius, he’s going to want you, regardless of what you believe and your parents are going to want you to join to save face.” Hermione carried on, ignoring James. “He already has half of your family but you are the centre of it all.” Her voice soften as she poked a finger into Sirius’, quite hard, chest.

“Again Hermione, I’m sixteen -”

“Underage and malleable, the decision taken out of your hands before you become of age, therefore easier to control, to use like a pawn in his game and with no way to escape by the time you are legal and out of school.” It sounded illogical, but it wasn’t unreasonable. They all knew that Voldemort was collecting Purebloods like trophies.

“It seems a bit far to go for little old me.” His shoulders dropped and doubt seemed to be climbing along the edges, his stubbornness trying to hold it off.

“You aren’t listening!” Hermione hissed. “Heir to a fortune vaster than anyone else’s...a power that no one else’s family holds, it’s not just a way to get to you but to get to all of us.” She clarified, a sigh leaving her mouth. “You have connections with some of the richest and powerful families in Britain, not to mention most of our group is Pureblood.”

“You know this, mate, you go home and that mark is going to be forced onto your arm – and you’ll either be tasked with bringing us to join him or to betray us.” James added and Hermione was forced to be reminded of how shit their situation was.

Three sixteen year olds (well fifteen for James), stood in a living room on the evening of Christmas, debating about whether their friend should go home so he could be pawned off to some evil overlord by his parents with no other reason than he had value.

They were children, for crying out loud, already been placed in a war they had nothing to do with – forced to deal with consequences of actions they didn’t want.

“I would never do that.” Sirius had whispered, looking between them both with a frown as he shook his head and sat down. “I know what they want – you think they haven’t been hinting at it through letters since Halloween?” He spoke a bit louder now, even as he laid back against the chair.

“So you knew -”

“I’m not stupid – but what else am I supposed to do – if I avoid it now then it happens later and maybe...maybe I should just do it – offer myself up to be some sort of spy for Dumbledore – at least that way I can get in the Order.” He sounded so passionate, ready to walk out of the door and do that. “And it would be a while before I would actually be called to do anything, but then I would see it first hand – can give your dad some information.” He added at the end when he saw how James was looking at him.

“No.”

“No?”

“You are not giving yourself in – I didn’t – I haven’t -.”I didn’t travel back in time just for you to get yourself in a mess I can’t fix. Hermione thought but she couldn’t exactly say that. “Just no Sirius.” Is what she landed on, and it came out lamely.

“Why not, Hermione?” He seemed shocked, like he thought she would actually agree to sending him like some kind of wild deranged idiotic spy. “I can be an asset to the war, I could -”

“You could get yourself killed.” Hermione shouted, letting out a breath, one hand on her hip and gripping her head with her other hand. “This isn’t something you walk into, and if he even suspects that your loyalty is false then he’ll kill you.” He knew that. Of course he knew that.

“You’ve heard the stories from dad, don’t do this, Pads.” James whispered, there was footsteps on the floor above – either their parents or Andy and Ted.

“Regulus doesn’t want you to do this.” Hermione spoke urgently and just like that Sirius’ back was up, eye flashing dangerously, nostrils flaring. She was reminded of another time, of one when their anger had caused other reactions – ones she favoured more.

“What did you say?” Never in her life had she been scared of Sirius, but in this moment she could imagine how it would see to be. Intense gaze and flashing eyes, tensed hands and gritted teeth – it was all a bit much. “You spoke to Regulus about this?” A sensitive topic that she should have had more care speaking about.

“He asked me to make sure you didn’t see the letter, or to stop you from going.”

“Hermione?” James is questioning her now. The pair of them looking at her in shock, like she spent most of her time sneaking around to talk to Regulus Black.

“Be mad at me, I don’t care but you don’t get to be mad at him – Regulus wants better for you than to run back home in some sick twisted move that you think will protect him.” Hermione calls out Sirius and his lips purse. Whatever drama was between the boys, a small sense of family still remained.

“No, he wants me out of the way so he can soak up all the glory, get himself marked and realise the mistake he will have made later on.” Sirius protested, shaking his head and pouting his lips. “And it’s my job as his big brother to stop that before it happens, even if I don’t like him.” Because I love him, was what Sirius’ face said instead.

“Sirius -”

“Would you not do the same for James, Hermione?” He spits, turning the situation back onto the Potter siblings but mainly Hermione. “You’d run in front of a troll to stop James doing it, so don’t even try and deny it.”

“I’m not and I would, but the situation is different.” Hermione answers honestly.

There isn’t a lot she wouldn’t do for James, risking her own life or even giving her own life was nothing compared to making sure that he was safe. That he would grow old and watch his son do everything he wanted, that he had the choice of more children if he wanted – that he would be happy.

Sirius though is contemplating, bemused at the situation. “How?”

“Because I know that James would never even think of marking himself, I know he would not put me in that position – and because...as much as I hate to say this...Regulus doesn’t have a choice in the matter, but you do.” Hermione explains as gently as she can. James and Hermione, Regulus and Sirius, are two different comparisons.

“How does that help?” Sirius asks, at a lose and she wants to understand – wants to reassure him but how do you reassure someone who up until a few hours ago wanted nothing to do with his own brother or family?

“I’ve spoke to Regulus a few times, and I was angry about the path he was going down, but he knows and he’s made a choice – you have a chance to get away and he wants that for you.”

“So I just leave him there to take my place?”

“Yes, and you do it while holding your head high and promising yourself that when Regulus regrets this, because he will, that you will be there to hide him away – we both will.” All while hoping in the meantime he doesn’t get himself killed.

Sirius stared down at her, shifting from foot to foot, silver eyes looking between the siblings, his tongue coming out to wet his dry lips. He didn’t say anything else, but simply turned on his spot and marched out of the sitting room and back up the stairs, leaving the siblings staring behind him.

“I guess we can take it as a good sign that he’s gone upstairs.” James muttered, reaching down to pick up Sirius’ bag as Hermione continued staring, flinching slightly as he reached around to wrap an arm around her, pulling her into his chest. “We’ll keep him safe, Mi’.”

At the cost of Regulus, who didn’t deserve it.

Dumbledore had warned her that she would put her own first and she had failed to listen, refused to believe that she would throw someone under the bus for her own, but wasn’t that what she was doing? Difference being, Regulus knew and Sirius did too – and while she didn’t want harm to come to the young boy, Sirius meant more.

Sirius would always mean more.