Return to Sender
Friday the 25th of June 1976
They lacked a plan.
Two underage wizards without the ability to get to Sirius, without people to back them up and two parents who seem to be keeping more of a watchful eye on them.
Fleamont seemed to understand, promising to keep his ear out and to see if he will be able to do anything but they all know it’s a dead end unless the Black’s fully admit what their plans are and what their treatment of Sirius might be – and even then, it would be a long shot to go against the great standing House of Black for a known problematic heir.
Euphemia watched them everywhere they went, limiting their interactions outside the house unless someone could go with them, but things were difficult. Ted was being watched at work and with the war stepping up Andy was scared to leave her own house – which left them more often than not trapped inside a house with nothing to do.
Except read the papers which made her stomach turn as the list of people being tortured or murdered grew stronger. As the passing of the law, the one for Octans, seemed to be getting discussed every day. Hermione knows it will only be a matter of time before the idiot minister lets him out.
She tries not to dwell on it, James said it left her too depressed, but the truth is there seems like a list of things to weigh her down that don’t involve her biological murdering father.
A part of her aches for Zach, for what they had built, she missed him – missed being able to chat, but the rest of her aches for Sirius – to make sure he’s safe – to run into Grimmauld Place and get him out, though she knows it wouldn’t be safe for her to do.
Instead, she owls Lily, Marlene and Remus, and then laid on her bed staring up at her ceiling while petting Crookshanks head as he laid on her stomach.
“Any ideas?” It’s become a daily thing, her brother bursting into her room, diving onto the bed and laying beside her.
“None. You?”
“Other than getting into the house and getting him out, no.” James supplied, his same suggestion for the past week – one that he was very adamant on doing, until he learnt that he wouldn’t be able to see the house, let alone get in.
“Yeah, me either, but I don’t like my chances on that one.” Hermione reminded him with a raised eyebrow as he let out a sigh and she glared at the ceiling. “We don’t know how many people might be there or even if he will be…”
“Where else could he be?” James asked as Hermione ran over the rollerdex of different family members and their manors in her mind.
“Anywhere – hopefully Regulus will let me know soon and then we can figure something out.”
“And you trust him?”
“With this, yes.” Hermione answered surely, turning her head to face her brother as he gave a stern nod. It was the truth at least, Regulus wanted his brother out of the house as much as Hermione did – and while she might know the future path Regulus could walk down, she couldn’t be certain that this would be the same.
Not now at least.
“I heard mum and dad talking again.” James spoke quietly, as though their parents lingered outside the door. Hermione sighed, moving Crookshanks off her stomach to fully turn onto her side so she could face her brother.
“Which were they debating this time?” His head turned to face her, his finger pushing against the space between her eyebrows to stop her frown.
“Illvermorny.” He spoke softly as Hermione let out a sigh and turned onto her back. “Mum said Beauxbatons was still too close to everything that is happening here.” Just over the water...a place where the problems of Britain would still reach ears and influence people.
“At least in France I’ll be able to speak the language.” Hermione joked but her eyes filled up with tears. France is a reminder of her mother, of a woman murdered, of half of her heritage she hadn’t been to in so long.
“Good for you – in case you’ve forgotten my French is limited to swearing.” A laugh broke through her trauma, her head turning to see James pouting at Crookshanks as the cat kneads its way into his arms.
“I never should have taught you those words.” Hermione admitted with a nod of her head. “Your understanding is good enough.”
“Probably not good enough for school.” She had to agree there, she doubted he will be able to get very far with his limited French and lack of attention. “But I don’t think we’ll have to worry about that.” He added after a second.
“Dad still not agreeing?”
“He doesn’t think sending us away is going to stop us getting involved, in fact he’s convinced that you’ll bring us back the moment you turn seventeen.” She can almost see it now, a couple of weeks in a new school, her birthday arriving and her pulling James away and back to England.
“Hm…”
“Which he’s not wrong – neither of us are just going to walk away, not when we’ve got so much here.” James let out a sigh, his eyes closing and his throat seeming to grow tighter. “And a friend we need to save.”
“We won’t leave, mum knows that – she’s just scared and within reason.” It’s a sign of the times, when parents act without thinking, doing what they think is best or trying to. “And we will save him, but we need to figure it out first.” Hermione added after second thought, reaching out to grip James’ hand as tightly as she can.
“I know.” James whispered back before he smiled. “And I still vote we just go there and grab him.”
“You can’t even get in the house.”
“You can – what with being part Black and all.”
“Diluted and my last name is Potter.” Her voice was dry as she spoke, eyes narrowing. It was not something she liked to be reminded of, especially not from James – not when she most days can forget that biologically they weren’t siblings.
“Semantics.” James muttered under his breath, waving his other hand.
“Jamie, I love you, but are you stupid?”
“That’s rude.”
“Do you honestly think I can just turn up in London, walk into the house, grab Sirius and get back out?” Hermione asked, raising her eyebrows as James opened his mouth and tilted his head to the side, an answer without so many words. “You put too much faith in my abilities if you think I can do that.” She whispered but her heart warms, nonetheless.
James had never lacked trust or faith in her, he came to her when things needed fixing and looked to her for answers. And she so wanted to be that person for him, be someone he could depend on but it hurt sometimes to know it might go wrong.
To know that she could fuck this up and she would be right back to where she started, that Harry would grow up without a father or would cease to exist altogether.
“I know – and I wouldn’t ever risk your life like that.” James spoke lowly, unaware of the tears that filled her eyes as she moved to rest her head on his shoulder. “I just wish he would write back, let us know that he’s alright or what his plan is.” Her arms circled around his own before moving back to grip his hand.
“Me too.” Hermione whispered, blinking out another tear. “But I have no doubt that Sirius would be able to get out if he put his mind to it.”
“Yeah, he I’ve seen the creative ways he gets out of the castle...I bet he could break out of Azkaban if he tried.” James spoke with a laugh, the smile falling off his face as he turned to look down at Hermione who had pulled back to stare at him in shock. “What?
There was no way he knew what he had said or what it could even mean, it was just a joke but it sprung something to life inside her.
An image of an older Sirius, hair longer than her own, skinny and wasting away, refusing to give in and instead standing strong like a force to be reckoned with. Like an Angel of Death that came for revenge of his friends, that looked at his Godson and saw the best and worst things he could; his dead best friend, his dead brother.
Hermione Granger had watched him with careful eyes, even as he cleaned up – looking startling handsome despite everything. His temper had set her back, made her wary – his treatment and bitter regard for the world, for the house he was locked inside had been cruel and she hadn’t understood then.
She did now. Sixteen year old Sirius was stuck in that house, and she was once again unaware of what was happening to him outside the horrible images of her mind.
“Nothing.” Hermione whispered, a second too late as James frowned at her before she put a smile on her face and wiped away her watery eyes. “It just seems exactly like the sort of thing Sirius would do.”
…
Wednesday the 30th of June 1976
“Mum…if you would just listen…”
“James, I have been listening – for the past few days and the answer is no.”
“Why?”
“What?”
Hermione gritted her teeth as she sat in the sitting room, frowning down at the pile of return letters on their coffee table. Not a single one of them looked opened, the wax Potter seal remained unbroken and the parchment still crisp to touch.
He was either ignoring them or wasn’t getting their letters at all which could mean something was wrong.
“I get it, the outside is going to shit right now but us being trapped in here is not going to make a difference – it’s only going to make us resent the fact that our mother refused to let us live our lives.” James’ voice rose as he followed after his mother into the sitting room, barely blinking as Hermione picked up another letter.
“So what? Would you like me to send you out to war? Would you like to add to the worry that I already have about your father?” Their mother cried, hazel eyes blazing and tawny hands waving in the air before they landed on her hips.
“No of course not, I’m just asking to get out the house – I’d even be happy with going to see Remus or Andy.” James pleaded, taking a step closer to his mother and looking so much like a little boy despite the fact that he stood taller than the woman.
“Remus’ family have enough problems without adding you and Hermione to the mix and Andy...well Andromeda has things going on.” Euphemia claimed, James blinked and Hermione dropped the letter she was holding to the floor to look at her mother.
“What’s wrong with Andromeda?”
“There’s nothing wrong.” Their mother turned, slightly surprised, to look at Hermione, a sigh falling from her lips.
“Then why wouldn’t you let us go – what aren’t you telling us?” James asked, frowning and looking towards the floo like he was half tempted to jump into it and find out himself. “Is this about Ted? Is he still being followed?” Euphemia’s lips pursed and a deep breath came out.
“Mum?” Hermione asked carefully, placing her hands on her lap. “What’s happening?”
“Nothing more than usual – I just don’t want the pair of you bothering Andromeda right now.” Hermione and James looked to one another with a frown, their mothers lie hanging over them like a cloud. “Which brings me to my next statement – your father and I have been talking and we think it would be a good idea to -”
“We’re not going.” James cut her off before she could finish, a stern look that made him seem even more like their father shocking the girls.
“Excuse me?”
“Wherever it is you think you should send us, we are not going.”
“James, you have to understand -”
“And I don’t see why you are saying dads involved in this like he hasn’t been against it since the moment you brought it up.” James spat out, his frown deepening as Euphemia placed her hands on her hips again with a glare.
“Have you been listening to your father and I’s conversations?” Her sharp eyes looked between her children as Hermione’s mouth turned down and James shrugged his shoulders.
“The walls are thin.” James explained shortly, continuing on before his mother could speak and try to plead her case. “But that’s beside the point, we aren’t going to Illvermorny or Beauxbatons or Uagadou -”
“And what if this war continues to grow worse? I will not have my children dragged into something when I can make sure they avoid it.” Euphemia cried, eyes filling up with tears, her steps taking her backwards to sit on the sofa.
Hermione looked down, guilt filling her up and her eyes drifting towards the letter with a small frown. There at the corner was writing so small it was almost impossible to see, even as she picked up the parchment to look.
Meet me here. At 10pm tonight. R.A.B
An address followed underneath and a small smile took over her face, even as her stomach turned at the familiar signature. This was the letter that had been delivered today. Her mouth opened to tell James, but his own eyes remained focused on their mother as she carried on speaking about sending them away or protecting them.
“It wouldn’t matter anyway.” Hermione spoke, cutting off Euphemia, the letter still gripped in her hand as she turned to face the woman. “You know I am grateful for everything you have done for me, and that I love you and dad, but sending us away isn’t going to make us stay away from this war.” Her tone was slightly harsher than it should have been.
“Hermione -”
“We have people we want to protect, lives that mean something to us – how could we just walk away from that?” Hermione asked but Euphemia didn’t answer, her eyes filling with tears. “If we stand by and don’t even try to help then that doesn’t make us any better than the people we are supposed to be fighting against.”
“We know it’s hard for you to accept, and we know you want to protect us – but you taught us to fight for what’s right, to fight for what we love and you sending us away won’t change that.” James added, rubbing a hand through his hair.
Euphemia sniffed, a hand coming up delicately to wipe away her tears as her children stared at her. “I would be lying if I said I wasn’t worried, if it didn’t feel like I was about to send my children into a war -”
“We aren’t saying we will go and fight now.”
“ - and I won’t lie and say if you stay here then you won’t fight. Things are getting worse everyday. But you’re right, and I know both of you are going to do what you think is best and I can’t fight with that – but all I ask is that you don’t run into something without being prepared and that you don’t get yourselves involved in this until you finish school.” The siblings nodded as Euphemia nodded back, her eyes still watering.
Hermione took in a deep breath, her eyes drifting to James and his crossed fingers behind his back as she gripped the note from Regulus in her own hands and avoided her mothers eyes.
…
There was something beautiful about the summer sun. The colours spreading through the sky and casting the illusion of a late afternoon sky, despite the fact that the night was on it’s way and the streets remained empty but for a few people heading home.
Hermione stayed quiet, an ounce of panic and awareness flooding her senses as she tried to blend in with the Muggles, her jeans and simple top a couple of years old and her hair plaited on her head, which she kept down as she walked towards the location, a small park between a few trees that definitely didn’t give off the impression of where Muggle teenagers went to drink and smoke.
She wished she had kept Poppy with her, the elf had offered when she dropped her a few minutes away from the location but Hermione had insisted that she would be fine. That she could walk and meet Regulus without someone watching her.
“Boo.” A small squeal left her mouth as she turned to see a pair of bright eyes and black waves around a young pale face.
“Fuck you.”
“Glad to see you got my message.”
“And we couldn’t have just met somewhere – I don’t know...more public.” Hermione frowned as her eyes followed him, a frown resting on her face as she tried to avoid stepping in some dark puddle that didn’t exactly look like water.
“Public means more ears and we can’t have that.” Regulus spoke softly, sitting himself down on a defaced swing, his legs resting gently on the floor as Hermione stood before him.
“We could go somewhere which seems a little less...rundown.” It was a suggestion, one that came as she looked at the rusting monkey bars and broken slide. How did one even break a slide?
“Wizards are less likely to come across this place and we have means of protecting ourselves against the Muggles who might.” Bright eyes dulled slightly as they looked at the surrounding trees, the tip of his wand poking out of his...fringed brown jacket?
A small smile made its way to her face as she took in his clothes, muggle and not in a good way. He couldn’t have stood out more unless he had a neon sign above his head.
His jeans seemed to have been taken from a woman and were green, of course, and his top was obviously stolen from Sirius, and Hermione doubted Regulus had any idea who Black Sabbath was, but it made Hermione smile nonetheless, even as Regulus turned to look at her.
“Does Sirius know you stole that?” Hermione asked, sitting beside him on the other swing and pointing to his top. Regulus frowned, looking down and shrugging his shoulders, all amusement fading from them. “How is he?” Hermione whispered as Regulus sighed.
“Well let’s just say they haven’t broken his spirit.” Regulus remarked dryly as Hermione tensed, a deep sigh leaving her mouth. “Doesn’t matter what they try and do, he’s still the same stubborn arsehole whose lucky he hasn’t been stabbed.” There was something else though, something Regulus wasn’t saying and Hermione didn’t think he needed to – it hung in the air between them.
A sniff left her as she faced forward. “How long?”
“How long what?”
“How long until they have enough – how long until they force him to be marked – how long until we get him out of there like you promised me?” Hermione snapped, her whole body shaking as she pushed away from the swing, the metal hitting the posts and ringing around them.
Regulus stared at her in shock, his body stilling from the small swinging he had been doing as she ran her hands through her hair, pulling on a few curls and wincing at the pain.
Her whole body felt like it was ready to pounce, to drag Regulus back to his house and see everything through like James had originally suggested. Her heart ached at the thought of Sirius laid there, in pain, trapped in his own house.
Like a lion she paced before Regulus, narrowing her eyes and all but growling her words at him. “You promised me he would be out of there.”
“And you promised me he wouldn’t even be there in the first place.” Hermione winced, even lions flinch at the fangs of venomous snakes. “Guess you let that whole Lupin thing get the better of you.” Hermione blinked at the younger boy as he shook his head. “Don’t look so surprised, anyone with half a brain and eyes could figure it out.”
“How – this has nothing to do with Remus.” Hermione denied adamantly, shaking her head and stopping her pacing to glare back at the boy.
“So you didn’t fall out because Sirius told Snape where Remus turned and all but outed his friend and nearly got someone killed?” Regulus asked smugly, raising another eyebrow and smirking at her as she simply blinked at him.
“I – part of it but there is more to it than that.”
“My brother’s a dick, he’s done some shit, but you weren’t supposed to let that get in the way – you weren’t supposed to let him think he has to come home!” Suddenly Regulus was standing, stalking towards her and looking down, taller than he was a few weeks ago and more intimidating too, more Black than little boy.
“Are you blaming this on me?” Hermione asked, her own anger getting the better of her as she shoved him backwards. “I don’t control Sirius, despite everything that’s happened, he makes his own choices.” She added, pointing at him and narrowing her eyes.
“Right.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Hermione asked as Regulus scoffed and rolled his eyes.
“It means that my brother would jump off a cliff if you asked him too.” Hermione knew what was implied but words wouldn’t come and Regulus seemed to take that as an opportunity to speak more. “That he’s so fucking amored by you – that you simply asking him to go home with you would have -”
“But he didn’t did he!” Hermione snapped, her voice raising and her arms flinging into the air. “Clearly you are overestimating his feelings, because I asked – I begged him to stay with me and he didn’t.” It felt weak to say and she could almost see Sirius in Regulus stood before her. “Whatever you think he feels for me doesn’t compare to what he’s trying to do for you.”
She didn’t add anything more. There was nothing more to say.
Regulus would never understand what it meant to be the older siblings, to feel the care and need to protect that came when a younger sibling came into question. How despite drama, hatred or problems, you would risk your life for them – put them first, try and make their life a little less hard even if it meant having to do something you didn’t want to.
But Regulus could understand the need to protect. He understood it now as his eyes flashed with fire and his mouth turned into a sneer.
“I don’t want him to do anything for me!” He snapped, sounding much more like a petulant child about to have a tantrum. “I made this choice – he doesn’t get to come and screw that up because of some brother love he apparently has!”
“Neither of you have to do this – what is it with the pair of you being so bloody sacrificial?” Hermione asked, not waiting for an answer. “How about both of you get the fuck out of there?”
“You know it’s not that easy.” Regulus sighed softly, sitting back on the swing and letting out a breath. “My parents aren’t going to be happy if they lose their heir, but then take away their spare as well and suddenly you’ll have all of the Black family on your back.” She knew this but it didn’t make it any easier.
“So why does that person that stays behind have to be you?”
“Would you rather it be Sirius?” His eyes turned to her as she sat back beside him, her mouth opening and closing, even as a small smile took over his face. “Sirius is the heir because he’s the oldest, but he’s the mistake they can’t deal with – I’m the heir that listens and keeps myself quiet – if one of us has to go, who do you think they will make less fuss over?”
Her and Regulus weren’t close, but it didn’t mean it didn’t hurt less to watch a child surrender to the orders of his family, to take over the responsibility so his brother could walk away and live his life.
A sacrifice that he could deal with because he had been preparing for it the moment Sirius went to school, and he had done it without resentment, without expectation and trying to make sure his brother wouldn’t come back. Perhaps some could look at it as Regulus reaching for power, but Hermione saw it as doing what he could to protect his family.
“So here’s what we are going to do.” Regulus began after a second as Hermione looked at him. “We are going to get my brother out of that house.”
“How?” Hermione asked with a small laugh and a shrug of her shoulders. “It’s not like I can just walk in -”
“Let me worry about that – I’ll send another message when it’s time, you just make sure that Potter keeps writing and keep a look out.” Regulus spoke, the order falling from his lips without second thought. “Then get your elf to bring you to outside of Grimmauld Place and we’ll go from there.” It wasn’t a plan, more like a loose idea that ran along the same line as her own – except with a man inside.
There was no grantee it would work, no certainty that Regulus would be able to make sure it was safe for her to get inside.
“Why don’t you just get him out and bring him to Godric’s Hollow?” Hermione asked suddenly, eyes flashing as she stared at him. “Why do I have to get him and how do I know this is not a trap?” He flinched as he glared back.
“One; Even I’m not that cruel that I would lure you into my house for my family.” His jaw tensed and his eyes flashed like his brothers, defensive and angry. “And two; don’t you think I’ve tried but I can’t apparate and my elf has been given strict orders to remain away from Sirius’ room and to not take him anywhere – I couldn’t even get him to listen to me.” Hermione flinched, thinking of Kreacher – the elf who had loved Regulus to the end.
“Then how did you -”
“I didn’t tell him I was meeting you to conspire – he thinks I’m meeting so fellow Slytherins about some things.” Regulus spoke with an eye roll, lips turning into a hard smile that had Hermione frowning.
“He thinks your meeting Deatheaters.” Regulus flinched at the word but nodded his head, standing up and turning to look at her with cold amusement.
“Better to be safe than sorry.” Better to have a lie in case Kreacher spilled or his parents found out. Hermione nodded her head, staying on her seat on the swing as Regulus looked around, stretching out his arms and letting out a little sigh. “Just wait for my message.”
Hermione frowned as he turned and began to walk away, a small scoff leaving her mouth that had his slowing slightly. “Is that how you say goodbye?” She asked, standing up and crossing her arms as he frowned at her. “Merlin, I hope you didn’t do the same to Marlene.” A grin takes over her face as she leans a bit closer to watch his cheeks turn pink.
“Wait – what – how -”
A small laugh leaves her mouth as she turns away, heading back the way she came but not before shouting over her shoulder. “Goodnight Reggie.”