Difficult Times

She found herself cradled against James' chest, gasping for air. Her throat felt raw, and when she swallowed it was painful. He was stroking her hair, stroking her back, doing all the things he'd seen Lily do. It was the most frightening thing he'd ever experienced, seeing her so vulnerable, so exposed. He wasn't sure what she'd Seen, but he figured it couldn't be good. When she started screaming, her back bowing in his arms, his heart almost stopped. He thought about getting up, and getting their parents, but he stayed with her instead. She sat up shakily, and took several deep, shuddering breaths.

"Get help," she whispered, despite the rawness of her throat. He frowned down at her.

"You need help?" He asked her, worry in his hazel eyes. She shook her head.

"The floo. Get help. Mum, Dad, Notty," she whispered. James frowned at her. "Now, James. Please."

James carried her to a couch, and set her down carefully. He took the wards off the library and ran out to their ceremonial fireplace that served as their public floo. He arrived seconds before Sirius' body fell through and landed on the floor—almost as though someone had pushed him through. James stared at his best friend, his blood-brother, and felt tears gather in his eyes. He looked dead. Then James heard a thin rattle as Sirius gasped for breath, and then he was bellowing for help. Notty appeared at his elbow and gasped in horror. She crouched by Sirius and began to look over his injuries. Charlus and Dorea Potter ran into the foyer and gasped almost simultaneously, their eyes widening in disbelief.

"Merlin's staff!" Charlus choked out, his heart twisting in his chest for this boy who was almost like a second son.

"What happened?" Dorea asked sadly, her hands hovering above Sirius, as though she weren't sure if it was safe to touch him.

"He refused to take the Mark," Hermione rasped out. She was weaving on her feet, and James rushed to steady her. Charlus turned and looked at his daughter sharply.

"Surely not," he argued. "He's a child…only a sixth year."

"All the better. Children are impressionable, malleable," Hermione spoke coldly with her ruined throat. "If you don't think Death Eaters roam Hogwarts, you are foolishly optimistic, father."

"Hermione!" Her mother's voice was shocked.

"It's the truth, mother," James said firmly. "I've seen them."

"But, but, Dumbledore," Charlus said weakly.

"Yes, Dumbledore. He's a man, father, he's not Merlin. Men make mistakes. Men make foolish choices. Men put their faith in the wrong people," Hermione's eyes flicked briefly to James, and he frowned slightly. Charlus' frowned at his daughter. "I'm not saying that Dumbledore condones it, or even knows for certain…no, after last year he would know, wouldn't he? Well, perhaps he is working under the premise that if they're under his eyes, he can keep track of them. It's difficult to say."

"Can we worry about Sirius right now?" James demanded fiercely. Hermione blinked and looked down at the boy on the floor. She staggered forward, and sank down to her knees. She leaned over him, until her lips were at his ear.

"You're safe, love. We've got you, and they'll never have you. Never again," she whispered softly. He shuddered under her hand. Her mother moved forward, and waved her wand with a flick of her hand. Sirius' body levitated and followed her as she moved upstairs, toward his room. Hermione watched her mother leave, and James followed her, worry shining in his eyes. She turned to face her father who was watching her, frowning slightly.

"I think, daughter, that you and I need to have a very long talk," he said at last. "Let's go to my study."

"Is there something troubling you, Daddy?" Hermione asked cautiously, once she was seated in one of the comfortable chairs that faced her father's desk.

"A great many things these days," he said with a heavy sigh. "Princess, how is it that you are able to cast a spell that I've only argued theoretically, and cast it well enough to teach it to fellow students?"

"Oh," Hermione said softly. Charlus raised a brow at her.

"Oh?"

"Well, Daddy, erm, I may have been passing in the hall because I certainly wasn't eavesdropping, and the idea that you were suggesting was intriguing. A message that might be passed in such a way that its sender is unimpeachable, and the receiver might implicitly trust the message. One cannot fake one's patronus, after all," Hermione said carefully.

"That's another thing," Charlus said with a dark frown for his daughter. "The Patronus charm is a NEWT level spell. How are you able to produce fully corporeal patronuses?"

"Shouldn't it really be patroni?" Hermione suggested from her seat. He frowned darkly at her. "Sorry. As you were saying, father?"

"You were always such a good, obedient girl. You seem to have become a wildly precocious child overnight, and I find myself completely adrift," he said thoughtfully. She shrugged.

"James was so very wild that I suspect you and mother spent far too much time worrying about him. We are twins. Is it really so odd that I am a little like him?" Hermione tried.

"You were always incredibly intelligent, the both of you. It was how you used that intelligence that defined you," her father murmured, watching her. "You were so quiet, so secretive with your knowledge. I was actually quite surprised that you were sorted into Gryffindor. Your mother won 10 galleons off me when we received your letter, did you know that?"

"Just because I am ambitious, and I use information carefully does not mean that I am not brave, that I'm not a true Potter," Hermione said hotly, her cheeks flushing with anger. Her father shook his head.

"No, Princess, that's not what I meant at all. We love you, we wouldn't have cared what house you were sorted into, as long as you were happy," he said firmly. "However, you seem to have developed whole skill sets without the knowledge of your professors. Professor McGonagall, in particular, has expressed her disappointment on more than one occasion about your refusal to live up to your potential."

"Daddy," Hermione began uncertainly, and her father shook his head.

"Hermione, why?" He asked her plaintively. Hermione nibbled on her lip for minute.

"Daddy, we're at risk. The Potters are one of the most prominent blood traitor families in wizarding Britain. I have done nothing to draw attention to me in my entire school career. The best weapon I have at my disposal is the enemy's underestimation of me," Hermione said flatly. Charlus Potter stared at her for several minutes.

"Sweetheart, don't you think that your mother and I will do everything in our power to protect you?" He asked sadly. Her eyes became empty and sad, and it made him shiver in fear to look into them.

"I do believe that you would do everything possible to protect James and to protect me, but if you were to…to…," Hermione found that she could not say the words out loud. She just couldn't. Her father's face paled, and he looked stricken.

"You would be at great risk then," he acknowledged quietly. He sighed then, and it sounded as though the weight of the world were pressing down on him. "I have not planned for contingencies. Your mother has been pestering me to make plans. 'Just in case' she says, but I know it is her sneaky nature that longs for back up plans. You are very much like her, Hermione."

"Be very careful, father, please…be safe," Hermione said softly, her eyes still cold and strangely flat. He nodded slowly.

Charlus and Dorea Potter had had a fairly unusual relationship with their offspring. While most pureblood parents issues orders that they expected their children to obey, the Potters spoke with their children, and tried to listen to them as well. Charlus had always found his daughter to be quiet, thoughtful, and unusually insightful for a child. Even as a very small child, she would occasionally say things that were almost fey. He had worried at first that she might be a Seer, but she'd never manifested visions, thank Merlin. Their unusual relationship was most likely why Hermione felt comfortable enough to speak to him like this, and although he was disturbed by what she had to say, he was grateful that he'd heard it. Dorea had been right, they needed to make plans…just in case.

HP/HG/HP

When Sirius woke up, he was in his bed at Potter Manor. He knew it even before he woke because at Potter Manor his sheets always smelled of lemon verbena. There was another scent that mixed with the lemon verbena, the faint hint of jasmine floated to his nose, and he turned his head slightly to see Hermione curled up in a chair by his bed, reading. His heart leapt in his chest, to see her there, waiting for him, but that was followed quickly by embarrassment and shame. She shouldn't see this. She didn't need to know what sort of screwed up family he'd come from. He shifted anxiously in the bed. She looked at him over the top of her book, and he tried to sit up.

"You're not supposed to move, you know. I'm sure that mother mentioned it," she said casually, turning a page. He grimaced at her.

"I don't want you to see me like this," he muttered, flushing. Hermione sighed.

"I'll leave then," she said softly. She rose gracefully, and placed her book on the table next to her. He could tell by the stiffness of her back that he'd upset her. She turned and he caught her wrist in his hand.

"Thank you," he whispered. "For what you said."

"It was the truth. Mum and Dad have said that you may stay here until you graduate. Your Uncle Alphard has already been here discussing things with him. He's not your godfather, so he can't claim guardianship of you, but he said he's not going to leave you alone with no family and no support, either," Hermione said with quiet firmness. Sirius felt tears prick his eyes, and then felt shame for crying in front of Hermione. She looked away from him for a moment, and when she spoke her voice was soft. "There is no shame in crying, Sirius. It shows that you have feelings, and a heart. When you are unable to cry, then you should be ashamed."

"What a load of shite. Where did you hear that?" He said, rolling his eyes.

From you.

"Somewhere," she said vaguely, waving a hand. "He was right, though."

"He?" Sirius said with a frown. Hermione rolled her eyes at him.

He can't be jealous of himself, can he?

"It doesn't matter," she said firmly. "It was some old man. He's dead now. He's certainly not going to come sneaking in here to swoop me away."

"Oh," he said. He was still holding her wrist in his hand, and he started to rub the inside of her wrist with his thumb. Butterflies started to dance in her stomach. She was growing warm, and flushed, and her breath caught in her throat. He tugged on her wrist, bringing her face close to his, until she could feel his warm breath on her cheek. Her spine tingled deliciously, and she turned her head so that their lips were an inch apart. His grey eyes stared into hers, and she felt herself slipping into them.

"Am I interrupting something? Because he's supposed to be ill or infirm or whatever it was Mum said. I don't think that is part of his healing regimen," James irritated voice came from the doorway. Hermione sighed and stood up.

"I was just leaving," she said coolly to her brother. "Shall I send Remus up when he arrives?"

"Is Peter coming, too?" Sirius asked curiously. Hermione's face grew hard for a second, and then it softened.

"No, he was…busy, and his parents said he was unable to come," she said, a hint of steel in her voice. James gave her an odd look, but she ignored him, and left the two friends alone.

"Want to talk about Quidditch?" James asked with a grin. Sirius rolled his eyes.

"Sure," he said with an answering grin. It might be okay to cry, but Sirius wasn't ready to sit around and talk about his feelings, and James understood that.

"So what do you think about England's chances this year for the World Cup?" James asked curiously. Sirius groaned.

"With Hadleigh as their Keeper? They might as well wish for the moon!" Sirius said with a snort of contempt.

HP/HG/HP

By the time they were ready to go back to school, Sirius was mostly healed. Physically, he was fine. Hermione watched him with solemn eyes, and he would get irritated and huffy, and stomp off. The first few times he did that, the girls of Hogwarts looked positively gleeful. They assumed that Sirius Black had finally come to his senses and was going to dump Hermione Potter. She tried to be patient and understanding. She knew that he needed time and space to process what had happened. He was also an intensely private person, and it was incredibly difficult for him to discuss family business with someone else. Even if that someone else was Hermione. However, these girls—they were about ready to get stomped on. They had no idea with whom they were messing.

"I have no problems with muggleborns," Hermione said darkly one day at lunch. "But if that Becky Spencer insinuates one more time that there is something dirty or wrong with Sirius staying at Potter Manor, I'm going to hex her eyebrows together."

"Why did you preface it like that?" Lily asked, slightly hurt. Hermione sighed and turned to her.

"Because in the pureblood culture, it is completely normal and natural for an orphan, or a child with no living parents, which Sirius is legally, to stay with some sort of relative if his godparents are dead, which his are. We are—very, very distantly—cousins, and it is well within the realm of propriety that he stay with us. His Uncle Alphard is a bachelor, and so it would be a little less appropriate for Sirius to stay there. People would assume that drunken, debauched gatherings were occurring, and no offense meant to Sirius' Uncle Alphard, but there probably would be. Apparently Becky Spencer doesn't understand any of that, and she keeps trying to imply that I'm some sort of sex slave or kept woman," she ranted angrily.

"I vote for sex slave," Sirius said cheerfully, as he sat down next to his girlfriend and kissed her on the cheek. Hermione turned a light pink. James sat down across from him and shot a dirty glare at him.

"I vote we get you a new boyfriend," he growled at his sister. Hermione sighed and looked at Lily who hid a grin. Sirius pouted.

"I wasn't saying she actually was, I was just saying that if we're going to invent gossip, it ought to be really juicy, yeah?" He reasoned logically. James narrowed his gaze at Sirius.

"We are not inventing any gossip about my sister," he said flatly.

"Right, so I think I missed the first part. How come you're supposed to be my sex slave?" Sirius asked curiously. Hermione huffed in irritation.

"It doesn't matter, Sirius," she snapped. He frowned, and slid an arm around her waist.

"Hermione, if it bothers you this much, then, yeah, it does matter," he said firmly. She tossed her wild curls over her shoulder, unwittingly releasing the scent of jasmine in Sirius' face. He inhaled deeply, and had to restrain himself from burying his face in her hair.

"I'm taking care of it," she said with a significant look at Lily. "Don't worry about it."

"Why does that scare me?" James asked the table at large. Remus sat down and snorted.

"Because your sister has a mean wand hand, a vicious temper, and a slightly vindictive side?" He offered. James nodded.

"Yup, that would be it," James said firmly. Hermione glared at the both of them.

"Come on, Lily. We've got things to do," she said firmly.

"That didn't sound ominous," James muttered. Hermione ignored her brother and dragged Lily off with her.

"We're not going to hex Spencer's eyebrows together, are we?" Lily asked curiously. Hermione shook her head.

"Sweet Circe, no! We're going to hunt down Regulus," she whispered to her friend. Lily squeaked in surprise, her emerald eyes wide with shock.

"But, Hermione," Lily said nervously. "He won't talk to us, will he? I mean, you're dating Sirius now, and his family…oh, bother."

"He will," Hermione said firmly. "Trust me."

They found Regulus in a hidden corner of the library, bent over his Ancient Runes homework. After a brief argument that took place in hushed whispers, Lily agreed to be Hermione's lookout. She wasn't worried about Madame Pince. She was far more concerned that Death Eaters not see them together. Hermione sat down next to him, and waited. His eyes flicked to her, and she nodded almost imperceptibly. He sighed, and relaxed slightly.

"I know what you did, Regulus," she whispered. He stared at her.