Hermione woke up the day after the incident. She was shocked for a minute that her surroundings had changed, but then she remembered what happened. That she almost died, that her father had died, and Harry came and got her. She remembered blacking out in the alley. So, this must be Grimmauld Place. Sirius's home.
At first, she just stayed silent and stared at the ceiling. It had such small and intricate detailing. Only a person focusing hard enough could see the dark paint circling in coils that never ended. She focused on that for a while. Following every coil. That is, until it all came back to her. She didn't burst into tears or call for Harry. She just stayed.
Inside, she felt empty. Like a dementor had stepped into the room and placed itself inside of her mind. All she could do was keep replaying the scene over and over again. Every time she heard the sound of the gun, she flinched. The loud noise ringing in her forever scarred ears. It was deafening. She could hear nothing else.
Her thoughts were broken into by the soft touch of a delicate hand. Her eyes slid down to her own and realized someone was holding her hand. Looking up, she could see that it was Harry. His normal boisterous green eyes were sad and mellowed. His usually bright face adorned a worried frown. Everything around her seemed to be turning dark and depressed. Even her friend was.
She slowly worked her mouth, but no noise came out. She wanted to talk. To break the silence that had settled, but she couldn't. There were no words to explain or make anything better. Harry just sighed.
"I know." Hermione then clutched onto his hand and refused to let go. The two children stayed there like an old married couple while one was on their deathbed. Holding hands and being comfort. It was just depressing.
After a while, Harry closed his eyes and sank into the chair he was sitting in. He needed to speak. To get Hermione to stop feeling so empty. He could feel it. The emptiness. He didn't know how, but he could.
"Hermione." She stayed still. Not even flinching. It was like he wasn't even there.
"Hermione, I don't know what you're going through, but I think you should talk about it." Still. No response.
"Take it from the angsty boy you say the same words to all the time. Bottling up everything isn't the way to go. One day, it'll explode on you." Her dark eyes slowly shifted to his face.
"Talk?" Her voice sounded weak. Like a mute just using their voice for the first time. A sad and scratchy sound that made his heart ache.
"Yes. Talk to me. Tell me how you feel."
"Empty."
"No one is empty Hermione. You feel something. Angry. Depressed. Relieved. Guilty?" She sniffled softly and looked back to the ceiling.
"Guilt." Harry rubbed circles into her hand.
"Good. Why do you feel guilty?"
"I made him angry. I played dead. I ended his life." She looked at him desperately. "If I only just did the dishes right. Done as I was told. None of it would have happen." Harry let her continue. She needed to get all the emotions out.
"But, he should have loved me. Never lay a hand on me. Should have been my father, not my enemy." Hermione slowly slid into a sitting position, facing away from Harry.
"I shouldn't have had to take the beatings. He should have just moved on and been a father." Her fists tightened, but then released.
"I still loved him though. Through every smack or punch, he was my father." She looked back at him.
"You know, sometimes when he was sober enough, he took me to the park. To the spot where him and mum meet." Her whimsical smile went away and transformed into a deep frown.
"That never lasted." She looked back away and slammed her fists down on the bed. "He should have never shoved my head in that water. I should have never had to watch him die. It shouldn't have happened!" The dam in her mind finally broke and every desperate and angered emotion ran through her. She was angry, upset, relieved, guilty, and just everywhere. Tears began to fall down her cheeks and she didn't stop them. Hermione cried. She sobbed and sobbed and let all the emotions out.
Arms encircled her and pulled her close. It was like a warm feeling washed over her and she felt safe again. Safe to grieve and safe to feel all of her emotions.
"It hurts Harry." He shushed her gently and stroked her hair.
"I know Kitten. I know." They sat in there for hours. Either in silence or Harry just listening to Hermione talk. She needed it and he was willing to give anything to her. He wanted to comfort her and take care of her like she had for him so many times.
The afternoon rolled around and Hermione's stomach rumbled. Harry shifted and whispered, "Ready to eat something?" Hermione slowly nodded and Harry helped her up. The two headed down the dark hallways and down to the kitchen. Sirius was sitting there. Staring out the window with a contemplative look. He had a glass of firewhisky and the bottle beside him.
Hermione spoke up and told him jokingly, "Drinking will ruin your liver. Magical or not." Sirius's attention quickly snapped over to her. Despite the clean up he gave her, she still looked weighed down by filth. She looked smaller than usual. Fragile in a way. It was a complete opposite look to how he had seen her in school. She was so confident then. So ready kick anyone down if they messed with her loved one.
Sirius gently smiled, "How're ya holdin' up, Kiddo?" She shrugged aimlessly and Sirius got up and hugged her. She clung onto him and he could feel her shaking.
"It's alright. You'll be alright." And she would. She would get through it like she did anything. With strength and time.
Sirius released Hermione and looked around frazzled a bit. "I'm guessing you're hungry?" He went over to the pantry as Hermione and Harry sat down. Harry hadn't released her hand.
"Well, we have soup and sandwiches. Or…."
"Soup and sandwiches are fine, Sirius."
"Right away captain." Sirius and Harry began on the meal and it was done in a few short moments. They sat down to eat together and then spent the rest of the day in silence. Hermione showered and just wished all of her troubles could was down the drain.
When the evening came, Hermione had gone to bed with Harry and Sirius had gone to his room. Remus came over a while ago. He gave her his apologies and all.
In the middle of the night, Hermione went to the sitting room. People had been lovingly surrounding her all day. She should feel warm with love, but she didn't. All she felt was cold with betrayal and guilt. She sat in an arm chair encircled with heavy blanket, staring into the fire she made. She couldn't hear anything or even pay any mind to what was going on around her. She was just trapped in her mind. Being devoured by her emotions.
Snapping out of her thoughts, she realized that something was being held out in front of her. A mug of steamy chocolate smelling liquid. She looked up the arm that was holding it out to her and was surprised to see the scarred face of Remus Lupin.
Hermione took the drink and Remus sat beside her in another chair. They sat in silence for a moment. Hermione took a sip of her drink and felt her insides warm. Everything seemed to warn so much that she wanted to ask if he slipped her a potion.
Beside her, Remus stated quietly, "Chocolate really is the best cure." Hermione chuckled softly and took another drink. Silence reigned again until Remus spoke up.
"Hermione, I want to tell you something. Something I haven't told anyone." She looked towards him questioningly and he continued.
"I have been through much loss in my life, but the one that will always haunt me is the death of my mother." Hermione's eyes widened in surprise. She thought it would be James and Lily's death.
"When I was younger and first got Lycanthropy, my mother was devastated. Being a muggle, she didn't understand that her son had just become a killer beast." Her looked into the fire with a sagged position. It was like he was in a trance. Reliving every word.
"On my first transformation, father had to lock her in a room to restrain her from coming to my shouts for help." He took a sip of his drink and continued while looking at her deeply.
"She couldn't take it. How unfeeling my father was towards the matter and seeing her son being torn apart by something she couldn't fully understand. It was too much." A single tear ran down her old professor's cheek.
"I found her. On a night after my transformation, hanging from a support beam in her bedroom. She left a note explaining that she couldn't live another day to hear me call out for her and not be able to help." He wiped the tear away and took Hermione's hand.
"I felt so betrayed that she would leave me. So guilty for having the curse. So angry at everyone. I felt everything you do." Hermione felt her own tears slide.
"The pain never goes away, but you'll accept that it wasn't your fault. Nothing you did had affected what happened. It was just a tragic moment that you never thought would come."
Hermione sniffled and asked him desperately, "How? I want the emotions to go away. I want to stop hurting."
He smiled softly and told her with wisdom, "Time, Hermione. Time heals all wounds." The two sat in the fire light until both fell asleep. They were found by Sirius getting up for some water. The man just smiled and let the two rest in peace. Time would heal her. She would get better.