Chapter 7:  More Company Arrives

It was dark when Hermione woke. For an instant she was confused. She had been working in the living room late into the night, long after Sirius had fallen asleep, long after the words on the pages had begun to blur in front of her eyes. But Hermione knew that she had never gone to bed. And yet, there she was, curled delicately under her blanket. The curtains were drawn in front of windows that Hermione never blocked from view. Had Sirius carried her into her room? It seemed unlikely but there appeared to be little other explanation.

Her feet thudded to the ground; she made her way to the window, and pulled back the thick, blue curtains. So much of her room was blue, but she hardly ever noticed. The light hurt her eyes as she pushed the drapes away. Hermione hadn't been outside for days. Without Ron and Harry dragging her out she felt little need to go. Their absence was taking its toll.

Frost stung at the corners of the pane. She would have to go out today even though it looked painfully cold. Hermione needed more books. More books meant Diagon Alley.

She got cleaned up quickly, this time charming her hair dry with a flick of her wand; it wouldn't do to catch a cold at a time like this. Hermione decided on robes today. Wearing muggle clothing, while comfortable when lounging about the flat, would only serve to draw unwanted attention to her back in the wizard world.

Hermione had just finished buttoning the charcoal colored robes when she became aware of a smell. Someone was brewing coffee. Her earlier puzzlement seemed to be lingering as she opened her door quickly almost expecting Ron to be there. But that, of course, was impossible.

Her near heartbroken look wasn't lost on Sirius as he looked up at her from where he sat at the dining table. His hair was still wet from his own shower; he had combed it back, obviously making the attempt to look more presentable. A distant part of Hermione wanted to give him a quick hair cut.

"Something wrong?" He asked.

"You made coffee."

"Yes, shouldn't I have?"

Hermione shook her head quickly, "no it's fine. It's just that Ron always made the coffee. I...I was just surprised is all." She drooped slightly.

"I made toast as well. I found a jar of preserves in the pantry, something Ron's mother made." Sirius changed the subject from Ron. "There's hardly any food left, we'll have to go to the grocers."

"I was planning on going to Diagon Alley today anyway. I'll stop by the grocers on my way back." Hermione replied.

"When should we go?" Sirius closed the Daily Prophet that he had been reading.

Hermione frowned in annoyance; she wasn't use to having someone peruse her newspaper before her. "We? Do you really think it's safe for you to go walking through Diagon Alley?"

"I'm not letting you go alone." Sirius tossed the paper across the table.

Hermione glowered at him, she wasn't a child, she was a grownup and an Auror to boot. But for some reason it hardly seemed worth the effort fighting with him over it. "Fine, but we should go soon, the crowds will be heavy in the afternoon.

Sirius nodded, "but not until you eat something first." He added.

Hermione glared, a twinge of territorial anger in the pit of her stomach. But it wasn't because he was giving her orders; it was because he was giving her Harry's orders. The number of times Harry had forced to her break away from what she was doing in order to eat was immeasurable. It was almost a sacred tradition, akin to Ron making the coffee or Hermione being first to read the paper. Sirius Black had no right to be intruding like this.

He took in her furious eyes, her pink tinged face, "Harry and Ron wouldn't want you to go hungry you know."

Her hands, which had clenched into fists, released slowly. It was ridiculous. He was worried; she knew that she looked on the verge of wasting away. But this whole ordeal was very stressful and she missed them so much it hurt.

"There's mail you realize." Sirius was speaking again.

Hermione glanced over her shoulder to where he pointed. She had been ignoring the owls as they arrived almost every hour. Hermione had pretended that she didn't see the pile of letters and scrolls all containing concessions of sympathy. She acted like she didn't know that Sirius had gone through them all and removed any that were less than considerate. Hermione knew that he had burned all the curses and threats the night before last while she stayed locked away in her room. It was considerate of him; something that Hermione hadn't before realized that he was capable of with her.

"I don't want to read them," she murmured softly and entered the kitchen.

Sirius followed her, "Hermione, some of those are from the people who care about you the most. The Weasleys, Dumbledore, your parents even went so far as to use an owl since you won't return their telephone calls."

Hermione found the stack of slightly burned toast, began to spread jam on one piece, and poured herself a cup of coffee, appearing to all the world like she hadn't heard a single word. Sirius stood behind her and Hermione thought that he was going to grab her arm like he had so many other times in order to force her to give him the attention he wanted.

But Sirius didn't touch her, "Hermione, you can't shut out the world."

Hermione sighed, turning to him, "I'm not shutting out the world, I'm just very busy, there isn't much time. And the world will still be there when I'm done."

Sirius was only a foot from her. His black eyes bearing down on her, not unkindly she realized with a twinge of surprise. Time proceeded by unchecked; they could have been standing in that kitchen for hours and probably wouldn't have noticed. Maybe they would have done just that if there hadn't been a knock on the door.

Sirius grasped Hermione's arm, "stay here," he ordered before swooping out of the kitchen and down the hall.

She followed directly behind him; un-swayed by his order, or the dark glare he gave her. He removed his stolen wand from a pocket and slowly opened the door.

"Hullo dearie." Mrs. Tavary's voice trailed off as she looked at Sirius.

"Oh get out of the way, Sirius," Hermione snapped, shoving him aside. "Hello Mrs. Tavary, how are you?"

"I'm fine child, are you?" The old woman sent Sirius, who was still looming behind Hermione, a suspicious scowl.

"Yes, yes I'm fine, did you want to come in for tea or something?" Hermione ignored the small murmurs of indignation coming from Sirius.

"Oh no, I'm off to visit my sister Ruth for the weekend in Bristow. I just wanted to give you this, came in the post yesterday it has my address on it but your name, and I don't know anyone in Romania." The old woman passed a postcard to Hermione, smiled, and turned away.

Hermione was so busy studying the card that Mrs. Tavary was already half down the stairs before she called after her, "Thank you and have a good holiday!"

She closed the door with one hand, her eyes focused entirely on the card. It was simple, a traditional muggle postcard. It featured an idyllic setting of a small town on the edge of a great forest. The words emblazoned across it stated "Wish You Were Here". Sirius took it from her.

"Who is this from?" He turned it over in his hands studying the blank back.

Hermione pulled it back from him shrugging. "I don't know. Maybe one of those travel advertisements. We get those sometimes."

Sirius watched her suspiciously as she slipped it into her pocket. "You keep all your advertisements?"

Hermione smiled almost sweetly at him, "just the one's with pretty pictures." She turned back down the hall towards the kitchen where she had every intention of drinking another cup of coffee and eating several slices of jammed toast.

Sirius watched her, confused over the smile and the sudden spring in her step. He didn't know that she was feeling better than she had all week. He didn't know why her hand slid back into her pocket to touch the post card again. He didn't know that Ron and Harry had just sent her a message.

~*~*~*~

"Snuffles, please, I am trying to look at the books on this shelf if you don't mind." Hermione had to use both hands to push the great furry form of Sirius out of her way. He seemed intent on sniffing every book that she was about touch. "Flourish and Blotts hasn't had a case of a book attack in centuries, well, not counting those Monster books of Hagrid's." Hermione told him in a low whisper.

As annoying as having a large black watchdog hanging around underfoot, she was finding his presence to be very useful. Several people had already seemed aware of who she was, but no one wanted to approach the girl accompanied by a grim.

"All right," she said softly standing back and adjusting the pile of books in her arms, "I think I'm ready."

Sirius looked at the pile of books in her arms then met her eyes as if to question why didn't she just buy the whole bookstore? But Hermione just smiled cheerfully back at him. She was still in a very good mood about the postcard. They were supposed to send her postcards from wherever they were so that she wouldn't worry. Well, she would always worry, but not nearly as much now.

She paid for her books and they headed onto the cold street of Diagon Alley. Dark clouds loomed low overhead foretelling of an early season snow. Hermione pulled her cloak tighter around herself. She wasn't going to go to Obscuras Books today, it would be too hard to see Ron's old boss. They would leave the wizard street, make a quick stop at the muggle grocers and then they would be blessedly at home again.

"Ms. Granger! A word, please!"

Hermione turned, hurrying after them was a young woman holding a, Hermione shivered involuntarily, a quick quotes quill and pad. A man with a camera followed closely beyond that. The dratted Daily Prophet had gotten wind of her visit.

"Ms. Granger, our readers are dying to know..." The woman stopped abruptly as Sirius growled. "Is...is that dangerous?" She pointed at Sirius.

Hermione looked the dog up and down and fought back a smile, "Only when he thinks I'm about to be taken advantage of, then he gets very protective."

"I...I." The reporter, who obviously did not have the backbone of Rita Skeeter, took a step backwards. "I don't like dogs."

"Really?" Hermione replied placing a gentle hand atop Sirius' head and ruffled his hair, "that is a shame."

"Millie," the photographer urged at the woman.

"Whatever you want to ask me, I have no comment." Hermione said shortly as the woman readied her quill.

"You can't mean that, the people have a right to."

Sirius growled again, his hackles raised, the woman stopped speaking.

"Let's go Snuffles," Hermione told him.

The reporter didn't follow as they walked through the wall that would lead them to the Leaky Cauldron but Hermione could hear the woman arguing loudly with her photographer long after the wall had closed behind them.

~*~*~*~

The flat wasn't far from Diagon Alley. They had chosen it for many reasons, convenience being high on their list. From Diagon Alley one could get to almost anywhere in the wizarding world. The Leaky Cauldron, while tending to look more and more disreputable as it aged, was connected to a broad floo network that extended far beyond the British Isles. Almost any spell or potion ingredient that they had needed could be found there. And the Auroring headquarters were there as well as the Ministry's main offices.

They could have taken a flat in the Alley itself had they wanted. All the little shops housed apartments above. But they had decided such a location would have been too public and Hermione, Harry, and Ron had become very secretive people.

While having a prime location only a few blocks from the Leaky Cauldron had been important, it hadn't been the deciding factor for them. From the moment they had crossed off of the main road and down the small, almost hidden side street, Hermione had been excited about it. The crumbling stone steps up to the door had drawn questionable looks from Ron and Harry. But the moment Hermione had breathed in the quiet and somewhat dusty air she had fallen quite in love.

For a very long time Hermione couldn't understand why she had become so set on their flat. It was non-descript. There was no flash of vibrant color marking the moldings; there was no furl of sudden architecture that would draw the eye. She could never figure out what drew her to this place.

But that was before. That was when Harry and Ron were still with her. Now, for the very first time, she could see what had drawn her to this place. In a life that had been nothing but extraordinary for many years, this was her one bastion of normalcy. This was the one place where magic wasn't commonplace. She loved everything about being a wizard, but it was exhausting sometimes. And this place was so terribly muggle that Hermione had been drawn like a woebegone moth. She loved the still air, the dull colored steps, and the elderly neighbors that complained when Harry and Ron got to rambunctious. But most of all Hermione loved the solitude of it. In the wizarding world she was never alone, there was always a ruckus going on, always someone seeking her attention or her knowledge. But here, all that surrounded her was part of her; from the dark blue curtains to the bookshelves, and especially Ron and Harry who seemed to be such a large part of her that Hermione felt she could drown in their presence.

Hermione wanted nothing more in the world than to be with them at the moment. In a single instant of time she would have given everything to be with them. She would have given up everything that made her who she was. The feeling past quickly but some telltale expression of heartbreaking emptiness must have lingered for Sirius was speaking to her.

"Hermione? Hermione are you all right?" He stopped unpacking the grocers' sack.

"I..." Hermione tried to focus on the words, or the cans in her hands that she was stacking in the pantry but tears were already blurring the lettering.

Cautiously he approached her. His dark eyes vibrant and hopeful, searching for the anguish that Hermione had to be feeling over the deaths of Ron and Harry. But Sirius wasn't pleased when he saw it there. Her sorrow was so palpable that he could barely stand to witness it.

Hermione felt ridiculous, on the verge of tears in front of Sirius, and all this brought on by the simple fact that she had bought soup for Ron. She hadn't even noticed when her hand had placed it in the basket. It hadn't drawn her attention when she paid for it. But even though the tears had almost clouded her vision entirely she could finally see it. She despised tomato soup.

She set the can down on the counter top, her hands grasped the edges for support as the sniffle pulling at the base of her throat started to shake her body. She didn't fight Sirius when he pulled her to him. Rather, she gripped his robe with both hands and sobbed into his chest. The release had been long in coming. And the comfort that she found in Sirius' arms prickled oddly on her subconscious but Hermione was too tired to think about it. She was too tired to consider how it felt almost nice to have Sirius gently stroking the back of her head or how she wanted nothing more than to collapse completely into his arms. All Hermione could think was how this was the first time in years that Sirius had treated her with something other than disapproval.

Her sobs began to quiet finally. Sirius did not release her though, it seemed as if he was trying to make up for all the time that he should have been comforting her. He smelled nice. It was an amusing thought that brought a smile to Hermione's lips of all things to think of at a time like this. But it was true; he spelled of the soap that Harry used. Clean and fresh, reminiscent of some cold moor after a rain. But he didn't smell like Harry.

Hermione pulled out of his arms, avoiding his eyes. She rubbed at the tears still staining her cheeks and reached for a handkerchief. She must be going mad to be thinking about how he smelled.

There was a knock. Hermione wiped at her eyes again, it wouldn't do to have Mrs. Tavary see her so upset, the old woman would have the police over to the flat in no time. She was already suspicious of Sirius as it was. Hermione affixed what she hoped was a cheery smile to her face and opened the door.

"Hullo Granger."

There was only the smallest fraction of a second in which Hermione's smile faltered before Sirius had knocked past her a roar like that of a threatened animal boiling from deep with in him. She tried to grab at him desperately as he passed, hell bent on murder, but he slipped by. Malfoy stumbled back, his hand going for his wand but Sirius wasn't going to bother with anything so paltry as a wand.

"Sirius!" Hermione cried but he didn't stop. With no other choice left to her Hermione raised her wand. "Stupefy!"

Sirius Black fell heavily to the ground.

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