Parallel Dilemma | By : MJurjevic Category: Harry Potter AU/AR > Het - Male/Female Views: 8115 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter fandom, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. |
Parallel Dilemma by nagandsev
Summary: Hermione does the only thing a Gryffindor lioness can do—she goes after Sirius.
A/N: The greatest thanks to my dearest, very patient and caring, alpha/beta proulxes—thank you for all of your keen insight and wonderful nudging, eternally grateful!
Chapter Five: Stipulations
oOoOoOo
"Don't leave here for anything in the world! Do you understand? Stay right here!"What? What just happened? What the hell is a Code Black?"Sirius!" cried out Hermione, running to the fireplace. Just like that? He’s gone? Panic twisted her stomach into a tight knot.
She stared into the hearth and repeated aloud Shacklebolt’s words, "Code Black… Borgin and Burkes. Borgin and Burkes? But that’s…" With a lump in her throat, she remembered, That horrid shop that specializes in Dark objects, anything with strong magical properties—anything and everything devoted to the Dark Arts! She tried to gulp the tension away as she remembered one of her first Investigative Auror assignments. That first time when Marcus Flint and I went there, in search of Dark talismans…We were such novices! Borgin was so loathsome!
Her heart started thumping hard as another, older memory of her, Harry, and Ron came back; visions of following Draco Malfoy through Knockturn Alley flashed through her mind while deciding what to do. Death Eaters… Draco was letting other followers, other Death Eaters, into Hogwarts through that Vanishing Cabinet—in Borgin and Burkes!
She started to pace, then stopped. Knockturn Alley! If that’s where Sirius is, that’s where I must go!
She gripped her wand tightly as she grabbed Floo Powder, hesitated for just a second, But Sirius told me to stay here!, and then stepped forward and whispered fiercely, "Diagon Alley!"
In the moment she was stepping out into an obscure tight space between shoddy buildings. Looking up, she made out a sign in the darkness ‘Scribbulus Writing Instruments’. Knockturn is near!
Hurrying along a cobbled alleyway, she followed the street signs, marking the way, concentrating on recalling the general twists and turns she needed to take.
As she passed The Coffin House, then The Spiney Serpent, she knew she was now deep within Knockturn Alley.
Pursuing another cause this time, Hermione avoided a few straggling passers-by in the ominous quiet of the nocturnal stillness, and pressed on down the dark, crooked street. She made an abrupt sharp turn on the next corner and walked down the steps leading off the main pavement, passing Ye Olde Curiosity Shop—Borgin and Burkes’ rival competitors! As she made an immediate sharp turn to the right, the gloomy shop appeared, nestled in among the darkest corner of the narrow lane, its forbidding exterior just as Hermione remembered it.
A dimly lit glow emitted from inside, but the building appeared undisturbed, other than puffs of smoke spouting from its chimney top. She shivered. What was the emergency? What if Sirius isn’t even here?
Do I just go inside? Is that—Suddenly, she made out several figures’ forms in the dark, closing in on the building from the rooftops, surrounding it from out of the shadows of neighboring structures.
She stepped back against the wall of the building nearest her, only to have someone’s hand cover her mouth and jerk her against the body it belonged to. Her squirming and muffled protests were quickly encased in a Muffliato charm cast around her by the ruffian, which would have frightened her further if she hadn’t instantly recognised the musky scent and masculine feel of the body she was being pressed back against.
"I told you to stay put!" came Sirius’ voice, low and tense, as he slowly released his hand from her mouth. But not his hold around her waist. He held her clasped against him in an iron grip. She could feel his chest rising and falling, strained in emotion. "I don’t want you in harm’s way, Hermione! Go back!"
Letting him know she had no intention of returning, she defiantly demanded, "Tell me what this is—what’s happening? What’s Code Black?"
Seconds passed as a battle of the wills engaged silently between the two, both breathing heavy, their bodies as one, standing there in the shadows, tense and alert.
She could feel Sirius’ internal struggle fade into resignation as he huffed and gave in, saying, "It’s a special signal we use inside the Ministry, between ourselves… the remaining Order members… Black is the code for Dark followers or suspicious events which bear the marks of former Voldemort-related activities…" His grip relaxed a little, enough to allow Hermione to wriggle around, facing him, their breath warm and fast in the cool night air.
"The Order of the Phoenix?" Hermione saw Sirius’ eyes shining, dilated.
"Yes. We know there is a traitor in our midst, several perhaps, within the Auror department, so the Order members have banded together again as a special unit."
She could feel his muscles flexing under her fingers pressing against him as she said softly, "Sirius, I was and always will be a member of the Order—no matter what universe we’re in. I’m not leaving! I’ll stand by your side and fight along with you all!"
Sirius smiled a wolfish grin, then let go of her. "That’s the spirit… my Gryffindor lioness, through and through."
They heard a yell that snapped their attentions towards the building.
Apparently, the other Order members had continued on with their reconnaissance maneuver, and Sirius snapped, "Wands up! Aim to maim and be ready to kill—be sure they will!"
Hermione raised her chin and grinned. "Constant Vigilance!"
He just paused a second to touch her cheek, as if to say goodbye, before ordering, "Follow me!"
They made their way into the dusty shop entrance. There were smells of something burning coming from deeper within the building somewhere.
Sirius motioned to Hermione to follow him, then signaled to two others to move forward—her heart skipped a beat as she saw Harry and George give her a quick look of acknowledgement before snapping back at the task at hand. Then she heard a voice calling out, "Borgin! Where are you? It’s Arthur Weasley from the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. On behalf of the Office for the Detection and Confiscation of Counterfeit Spells and Protective Objects, I order you to come out and give way for inspection."
There was a pause for several seconds, before Arthur called again, "Borgin!"
A scream answered all.
Hermione shuddered. It sounds like the scream of someone being tortured—someone suffering the Cruciatus Curse! The tortured person seemed to be a floor below them. Or is it above?
In a blur, she was quickly following Sirius and other Order members through a doorway that led to a back storeroom of sorts, filled with Dark objects. Hermione glimpsed human bones and withered body parts of animals. She barely missed brushing against some sort of Medieval torture instrument with pointed edges as she rushed along.
"Watch yourselves!" warned Sirius, motioning forward.
There was an opening in the back of the room, the air smelt fouler as they drew nearer. Going through, it first sloped downward then upward as if it were leading to an upper floor rather than a cellar. As they entered the space above, several things happened at once.
In a small, sooted hearth, something was burning, and Mr Borgin was writhing around on the floor screaming, "No more! Don’t! You can’t take it back—he’ll kill me! He’ll kill me—I told him I had it! I promised him!"
Hermione caught sight of two figures in the far right corner of the room—both black shapes. She gasped at their identical, mutated faces before being aware that the other Order members were spreading out throughout the room to corner the two intruders. There’s something familiar about them!
Hexes flew from George and Harry’s wands at the perpetrators. A jolting breaking of glass was heard as one of the figures crashed through a large dirt-stained window. Then the other turned and viciously sent a hex to Borgin lying on the floor—the man screamed in agony as visible slashes let forth blood.
Hermione saw Sirius barrel towards the remaining figure and she sprung alongside him, casting an Immobulus Charm at the person but was simultaneously met with an attacking, deflective hex, creating a wall of shielding fire with roaring flames between them and the culprit.
In that second, none other than the Minister himself Apparated into the room. Shacklebolt instantaneously released a charm, dispersing the flames, and with a wrathful look, he cast another spell, causing the flames to completely cease.
She heard the bleeding Borgin rasp out vehemently, "You!"
Hermione turned and saw Borgin with his arm extended, a death-grip around his wand. "You—that Mudblood witch! It’s all your fault! It’s—" Borgin slashed at Hermione, even as a green bolt of light soared from the assailant wizard’s wand across the room, hitting the seedy, drenched man, shutting him up forever.
The killing curse had hit its mark.
But Hermione had been thrown down, her head hitting the floor hard. Someone was laying half on top of her.
"Harry, George—after them!" she heard Arthur saying, "Bill and Neville have sealed the outside area with Anti-Disapparition Jinxes—they’re trapped in the close vicinity—the perpetrators will be on foot, heading for Floo connections! Hurry! I’ll be following on—"
"No, Arthur, stay with them; I’ll do the further back up," came Shacklebolt’s deep rich voice.
"Let’s just—here we go, Sirius," Hermione heard Arthur utter as she felt the weight of Sirius’ body being rolled off her. "There we go, my dear girl. Sirius? Oh my," responded Arthur in concern.
Her head was throbbing with pain from the impact, but she struggled up into a sitting position. She wiped at something wet on her clothing—Blood! But it wasn’t hers.
Eyes clenched, Sirius was gritting his teeth as if in unbearable pain. She quickly saw why.
Bleeding profusely, his body began to shake. He took the curse that Borgin meant for me!
As Sirius’ body began to convulse, she cried out, "Hold him, Mr Weasley, while –" She knelt and shut her eyes tight, concentrating with all her body and soul. She recognized the curse immediately. Sectumsempra—the counter incantation is…?
Her mind reeled, trying to recall the incantation. It had been so long since she had researched and learned the counter curse—since Harry had used in against Draco Malfoy in their sixth year. Mustering her concentration, she began to tremble slightly. I’ve never used it!
As Sirius’ blood bled forth, pooling on the floor, she started to whisper, then softly chant Vulnera Santera, her wand tracing over and over Sirius’ body. She felt as in a trance as she passed her wand over and around his body, feeling her energy and life-force pouring forth, channeled through her wand onto him, into him, and knew not how long it was before Arthur said, "The bleeding has stopped."
Hermione felt exhausted, drained, her body was shaking from her ministrations. She irrationally told herself, This shouldn’t be happening—whatever this is… She warily looked around, dizzy, only to focus in on Borgin’s corpse, and suddenly a wave of anxiety washed over her, an impulse to grab Sirius and disappear. She felt desperate; she felt she needed outside help. She felt she needed—
"Kreacher!"
There was a loud crack. The ancient house-elf stood before them.
Hermione realized she was panting loudly from the exertion, feeling faint and depleted, but gave Arthur a steadfast look. "If he’s taken to St Mungo’s, they’ll want to know what has happened and where, details—the Order’s secret unit within the Auror department could be compromised if they give him a Potion that allows him to relax—"
"And if it accidentally slips who all was involved, we’ll be busy Obliterating the entire staff when our attention and energy are needed elsewhere." The Weasley patriarch frowned. "It’s imperative we keep this within our own circle at this time. We can’t risk the traitor hearing and catching on that we’re trying to catch him."
"Not the fucking hospital—just take me home!" came Sirius’ voice abruptly, gruff and highly agitated.
Both Hermione and Arthur snapped their attention to Sirius, who had become conscious momentarily, only to fall back into a feverish delirium.
"I can continue to heal Sirius if Kreacher can take him—he needs Blood Replenisher and complete rest to fully recover." She gave the wizened old house-elf a look for help. "Take Sirius back home and keep him there, watch over him—if he needs help, help him—but don’t leave his side! He must have bed rest. Do you understand?"
Kreacher gazed at her with his drooping eyes, croaking out, "Kreacher shall aid if needed. Kreacher will help the master. Mistress wishes me to take Master home?"
Feeling a little thrown off by the house-elf addressing her as the ‘Mistress’ of the house, she pushed that aside to confirm, "Yes, Kreacher. Exactly. I’ll be right there," she blinked, wondering fleetingly about house-elves’ magic, before adding, "Find me Essence of Dittany, Moonstone and—" The sight of Sirius’ still visibly slashed and bloody body caused her stomach to lurch, "And some Blood-Replenishing Potion. Can you do that?"
"Yes, Mistress." And with another loud crack, both Kreacher and Sirius were gone.
Arthur helped Hermione slowly get up. She glanced at Borgin’s grimaced face, stone dead.
"Hermione, my girl, you’re not much better. Your head—"
"I’m fine, Mr Weasley."
"Arthur, Hermione, Arthur."
They swiveled around at the sound of figures entering the room, Apparating, and one climbing back through the broken window from the connecting rooftops.
"Where’s Sirius?" asked Harry, bee lining to Hermione as George crossed over to the hearth taking a poker and scraping something out.
Hermione answered, "He was hit by a Sectumsempra curse, but I stopped the initial bleeding. Kreacher’s taken him home." Harry gave her a curious look as she clarified, "To Grimmauld Place."
There was urgency in Arthur’s voice as he said, "Harry, why don’t you see that Hermione gets to a Floo safely. We’ll check everything and clean up here."
Bill was examining what George had scraped out. "Dad, it seems they were burning things."
"But why? Dark artifacts was Borgin’s livelihood."
"Getting rid of evidence?"
"Put together what you can—I’ll be right back," said Harry. He turned to Hermione, "Let’s go—Sirius needs you."
Hermione nodded, and she and Harry with wands up and on full alert were quickly making their way out of the precarious shop and back along the crooked streets to the nearest common Floo, Hermione asking, "Harry, what is this all about?"
"When he has healed more, Sirius can fill you all in about our surveillance these past few weeks—I must get back. There’s some connection between missing artifacts from the Department of Mysteries—we’ve trailed and pinpointed Borgin and Burkes as an enclave of activities, been monitoring it for about a month now, since, well, since—"
"Ron’s death?"
"Yes."
They had arrived at the fireplace in the tight space beside Scribbulus.
Harry looked down into Hermione’s eyes, tense and serious; his jaw muscles clenched as he pushed his glasses up. "Listen to me, Hermione. You need to lay low for a day or so."
Her oldest best friend seemed to be deciding about something until he continued, "You’ll have to first Floo to the Ministry, and then to Alphard’s—Grimmauld Place. All Floo network actions are being heavily monitored now. I’ll send a Patronus later on tonight with an update. If any further complications with Sirius—contact me, immediately! Send Kreacher—he’ll be loyal to you."
"Yes, I know; he already is—it’s a bit odd." Hermione’s voice faltered a bit. The elf seemed to recognize her as his master’s equal. An equal partner. As if she and Sirius were one and the same to Kreacher.
"It shouldn’t be. It’s not just elf magic that is different from ours." Harry gave Hermione a bittersweet look. "As you well know, they have an uncanny accuracy and ability to see us and those we love as we truly are."
"Those we love?"
"Absolutely, Hermione." Harry cleared his throat. "Right. Sirius needs you." Harry impulsively hugged her, repeating, "I’ll send a Patronus soon!" before letting her go.
After Flooing and switching in the Ministry’s Atrium, Hermione called out, "Kreacher!" as she leapt out of the fireplace into the parlor room of Grimmauld Place.
With a loud pop, Kreacher appeared in front of her.
"Where did you put Sirius?"
"Master is in the Master’s bed chamber," croaked the elf, motioning upward to the first floor.
Speeding up the stairs, she hesitated at the landing, wondering whether to continue to the second floor. Is he in his old bedroom? She checked the study room on the first floor and then started back towards Ron’s room when she saw her room’s door open down the hall.
Kreacher appeared in the doorway; the door creaked further open. "The master is here in the master bedroom."
My room is the master bedroom? Sirius gave it to me— Hermione’s thoughts were cut off by what she saw upon entering the room. On the floor? Bleeding afresh again?
"What’s happened?" She rushed to the side of the bed, a bloody trail marking the floor, looking down at Sirius. She was shocked at what she saw. He’s nude! And his cuts are bleeding again? He’s unconscious!
"Master wished to get up, fought to get up, to leave again. He fell and the wounds from the wizard’s curse reopened. Kreacher could not see where the Master was bleeding from. Kreacher removed Master’s clothing. Elf magic cannot heal this curse. Mistress said she would be right here." Kreacher’s eyes were large and searching as they stared at Hermione. "Mistress did not come. Kreacher could not leave the master alone. Kreacher has been waiting."
Of course he has! That’s what I told him do!
Trying to stay calm, Hermione asked, "You’ve found some Essence of Dittany—some Blood-Replenishing Potion?"
"Yes, Mistress, there on the dresser."
"Kreacher, bring me some clean cloths and a jug of hot water as well."
The elf Disapparated and Apparated back immediately with the items.
Hermione levitated Sirius onto the bed and rolled her sleeves up, instructing, "Listen to me carefully, Kreacher. As I heal the open wounds, incanting, as soon as the skin closes, you will pour a few drops of the Dittany where the fresh skin has grown over. Understand?"
"Yes, Mistress."
Oh, Sirius! Trying to keep her panic at bay, seeing the duvets soaked with his blood, she knelt beside him and concentrated again, singing in a soft lull Vulnera Sanentur, her wand slowly going over again his form. But this time she could see not just the blood, but the fresh cuts and gashes opened on his bare skin. She concentrated harder as one raw wound ever so slowly ceased to bleed, but his sculpted form was deathly still, like a fallen statue.
Don’t die, Sirius! Don’t die!
They worked together, Kreacher and her, she spelling the slashes to close, the old elf administering the drops of brown liquid sealing and healing further. She felt, each time, her energy draining from her and was lost in time, lost in the trance of the incantation. What seemed like hours passed until at long last all wounds were healed.
She collapsed back against the plush pillows lining the grand headboard and gave the steadfast elf a tired but appreciative look. "Kreacher, Sirius needs the Blood-Replenishing potion. We might have to force him." She had barely finished speaking when she saw that he held a phial of the liquid in his hand.
She looked at Sirius laying beside her, and now that she had had a moment to catch her breath, she felt her cheeks grow warm as she realized she would need to prop him up and hold him, help him, lest he choke. She reached for her wand and Accioed her blue bathrobe, placing it over his very defined torso and waist area. "Kreacher, um, I’ll hold Sirius up against me, and when I tell you ‘now’, be ready to pour a dosage of the potion in his mouth."
Kreacher nodded and croaked, "Yes, Mistress."
Hermione took a deep breath. Right. I need to just… She slowly wedged a leg and then her arms and body under Sirius’ torso, enough to lever him upwards and inch him on up to a semi-sitting position against her. At the contact of his bare flesh against her chest, the feel of his body, her heart started beating faster. Sirius was of a lean build, but muscular and hard… and his unconscious weight heavy. Huffing, she gave him an awkward hoist up against her more, squeezing him in the process, and he stirred in her arms, half turning, his inertia pressing her down. "Sirius, it’s all right. It’s me. Hermione. You’ve been hurt. Do you understand? You must drink this potion. You’ve lost a lot of blood. Sirius?"
His eyelids half-opened, and Hermione saw that his focus became alert, his grey eyes burned in recognition as he fiercely whispered, "Hermione!"
She reassured him, "Yes, it’s me." Sirius had twisted around; the bathrobe had fallen completely off, but she kept focused to the task at hand. "You were hit with a Dark curse, a Sectumsempra—Sirius, you must drink the Blood-Replenishing potion. Trust me." She motioned to Kreacher. "Now!"
To her surprise, Sirius was able to fully sit up and knock the potion back, grimacing and exclaiming, "Gah!", and then to her utter annoyance and shock, he made as if to get up, asking groggily, "Where are my bloody clothes? I have to return—"
"You’re not going anywhere, Sirius Black! You’ve just nearly bled to death—twice mind you, and—"
"Kreacher, my clothes, now!"
The elf gave a look to Hermione, then Sirius, then back again to Hermione.
"Kreacher, you are not to give him his clothes back," a wave of frustration washed over her as she added, "or let him leave here until I say so!"
But Sirius was clumsily reaching for his wand lying on the bedside table, his sinewy muscles on his back, flexing with the strain. Hermione couldn’t help but notice how they rippled in his upper back, which caused her to glance all the way down to his defined buttocks. Very defined…
"Sirius!" She grabbed her wand. "Don’t make me Stupefy you—you’re not going anywhere. The reconnaissance is over for tonight! Harry says we’re to lay low for a day or so—"
Suddenly, a bright-white, translucent animal appeared, a stag. It spoke with the voice of its caster, "Stay where you are. Situation under control and covered. Will contact you both tomorrow. Send Kreacher immediately if you need."
Harry! Hermione gave a huff of relief. "See? I told you so. You need to rest and heal—"
She turned to see that Sirius had collapsed down, unconscious again. Apparently, he had given over fully to his weakened state upon hearing Harry give the confirmation that he wasn’t needed. What a stubborn, resilient, exasperating man!
She stopped chiding him inwardly as she slowly stared at the mozaic of scars and wounds marking his sinewy, sculpted body. Slowly, she took the fluffy bathrobe and covered his hip area, her body quickly feeling leaden as the events of the day took their toll on her.
As she pulled the soft cloth up more on his torso, her fingertips grazed the soft tufts of hair which formed his well-defined treasure trail downwards… She looked back upwards and her eyelids were getting heavier and heavier with sleep as she struggled to study his tattoos of runic symbols on his pectorals. Groggily, she strained, making out the patterned symbols meanings: Friendship, Loyalty, Love… and… Passion!
Where’s my wand? She sluggishly grasped it, and with the last drops of her energy, she Accioed for blankets; two flew to her, and she gently covered Sirius fully before pulling one over herself.
Exhausted, she fell into a deep sleep of troubled dreams.
******
Muffled sounds.
Hermione heard muffled, distorted sounds, vague and mumbled, distant and dull.
Through the haze in her mind she heard a smooth voice whisper in her ear, "I’ve taken a part of you—your memory, your essence… My precious conduit… I’ve even erased the exact memory of who it is that has done this to you. How does it feel, Granger?"
Hermione felt a weight lift off her; she watched as a form rose and stood above her, tucking a silver chain with a phial-like pendant inside his shirt. Dark hair. Tall. He seemed to float. No, I’m floating… Where am I?
"Everything I’ve done to you, everything I’ve used you for, you will forget, and keep hidden, forgotten… When you hear the word ‘remember’ from me, each time, the memories will be muddled, buried deeper and deeper …become vaguer and vaguer…"
Hermione felt a hex hit her; she felt something inside her—something foreign. Something being taken from her against her will.
She heard screaming, and felt pressure, and being thrown, hexed, transported, falling. Her body hit a hard surface. Her head hit something hard. Her head was burning. Inside her was burning. A searing pain. Then, all was dark. She lay in darkness, dimly making out stars, constellations. She became fixated on one formation in the heavenly bodies. Then she heard screaming as he struck her again with a hex from behind—
"Hermione! Wake up, wake up!"
She was gulping for air, as if from almost drowning. She gasped and cried out, "I remember!"
oOoOoOo
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