Lost and Found

Chapter 7 - Rail Ride

Breakfast was a rather quiet affair after the initial outburst. Hermione still seemed unhappy with his discoveries about her - for some reason, the last incident had turned her inexplicably jumpy around him, her face showing strain every time he looked at her. He couldn't, in his darkest wonderings, imagine why.

After they'd eaten, Hermione moved to put the dishes in the sink. Sirius snorted and reached out to snag her wand from her as she passed. With a muttered incantation, they flew out of her hands, immaculately clean, and replaced themselves in the cupboards. Hermione let out a surprised little squeak, but otherwise took it rather well.

As she moved to sit back down, she snatched her wand back defensively, giving him an annoyed look.

"What?" he asked. "It's not like it hurts anything."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "It would do you good to have to do a bit of honest work, I think. Magic isn't a cure-all, you know."

"No," he responded with a grin, "But why do dishes when you don't have to?"

The witch threw her arms up into the air frustratedly, but said no more.

Sirius leaned back into the chair, staring up at the ceiling. "So," he said quietly, "What do you do around here? It seems sort of strange, not saving the world or fixing a grievous problem or even just playing pranks on people..."

Hermione laughed. "I understand. I haven't been using my life so well for a good many years... but then again, I'm not entirely sure what I would do in the ministry. I'd feel... lost."

Sirius felt something inside him wonder at this: Don't you already feel lost? But he didn't say it aloud.

"I read books," she murmured. "I go on walks, I visit a few people from time to time. You're right. Boring."

He winced. Hermione seemed absolutely determined to take everything the wrong way today. Even if he had sort of been thinking that way.

"Well," he told her pleasantly, trying to hide a smile, "No time like the present to shake things up."

Hermione blinked.

"What?" she asked intelligently.

Sirius felt the smile winning. "Did you ever get your apparation license?" At her stunned but undeniable nod, he stood and grabbed her arm. "How does Hogwarts sound?"

Hermione's face immediately turned sour. "Now look, you, if I've told you once, I've told you a hundred times, you can't-"

"-apparate onto Hogwarts grounds," he finished slyly. "Yes. Just checking." Good. Still the same old Hermione, somewhere in there. "Actually, I was thinking Diagon Alley, if you're up to it."

Her face was priceless. "Wha- Diagon Alley? But why?"

Sirius laughed. "Why, to get some money out of my vault, of course. Can you imagine the interest that's collected?"

Hermione seemed too shocked to respond. That was fine. As long as she had her license, he could go ahead and take her with him.

The only slightly fuzzy picture of Gringotts Bank came into his head, the unchanging and eternally ugly building that rested in the middle of London proper. Sirius moved to take her arm in his, trying to keep it clear enough to use. Hermione's mouth opened then, perhaps to ask if he was mad-

But the next moment, the house-that-wasn't-quite-in-the-middle-of-nowhere was perfectly empty.

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Sirius blinked furiously, trying to remember just what he had been doing. Disorientation had not only gripped him, but spun him around a few times and hit him over the head for good measure.

"Honestly, you- you idiot! Don't you realize we could've been splinched! God, that would be a headline for the Daily Prophet, wouldn't it?"

Hermione stopped then, apparently realizing that he was still trying to get hold of himself.

"Um." Her eyes widened, and she leaned closer to look at him. "Sirius? Are you okay?"

He groaned. "I seem to remember the process being somewhat less... this."

The woman beside him pursed her lips. "Well yes, normally it is. But how long has it been since you've apparated?"

Ah.

Ah.

"Fourteen years. Not counting-"

"Yes, of course," Hermione finished for him. "But... never again. Ever. I could cite whole books on the subject of apparation going wrong-"

"I'm sure you could," Sirius muttered beneath his breath, stifling a snicker.

"-and it was extremely irresponsible of you to try that without fully getting my permission first, because that can foul everything up if you don't have someone who knows what they're doing-"

"Sir," said a small and unpleasant voice from below. Sirius looked down to see one of the attendants of Gringotts staring up at him nastily. "If you have no business at the bank, it would be highly advised that you leave, and not give anyone the idea that you are..." The goblin's lips parted in a needle-toothed smirk, "loitering."

Hermione moaned.

"Actually, yes, I do have some business with the bank," her companion said almost gleefully. "Although I'm afraid I'll have to go through the process of getting another key..."

It wasn't his imagination. The thing's frown deepened quite a bit at those words.

"Is it too much to hope that you still remember your password?" the goblin asked unhappily.

Sirius waved his hand. "Of course I do. It's-"

"At the counter, please," the creature interrupted sourly.

Hermione let her head fall against Sirius' back with a thud. "Are you trying to be difficult or is it just how you normally are?" she muttered.

Sirius blinked. "What? It's been a few years."

She decided to be quiet - assumedly so she wouldn't encourage him.

"Name?" a voice called from up high a moment later. Sirius looked up, feeling something strange (fear?) grip his insides. He tried to stay calm and hoped Hermione hadn't failed to mention anything important about his pardon. Like, the part where a swarm of dementors was waiting to swoop down on him, as soon as he said his name...

"Sirius Black," he said.

If he was expecting something very large, however... he was disappointed.

"Password?"

He tried not to look too relieved. "Padfoot."

There was a slight ringing noise, just for an instant, and then a key was being slid across the desk - still sparkling as though newly made. "There will, of course, be a deduction of two sickles from your account for the replacement of your key," the goblin noted. "Are you interested in opening your vault today or will we be seeing you at some other..." his eyes narrowed, annoyed, "more convenient time?"

Sirius rolled his eyes. "Today, please."

The goblin growled something unpleasant beneath his breath, then leapt down from his stool, moving around the desk to walk purposefully toward a door that lead farther into the bank. After a moment, Sirius realized he expected him to follow, and did so. Hermione looked up in turn, and then rushed to catch up herself.

Their guide pulled open a part of the railing that had, at one point, looked exactly like the rest of it. Beyond it, they could see a railcar, waiting. It looked... unstable, to say the least. To say the most, one would have to mention the rust on the tracks, the squeaky handle of the car, the wheel that looked as though it might be falling off...

"Well," the goblin said with a frown. "Get in, why don't you?"

Sirius shrugged and moved toward it blithely, reaching out to snatch Hermione's arm in an iron grip along the way. She was looking ready to flee.

Hermione gave him a dirty look, but sat down in the car. He moved next to her as the goblin hopped in as well, sitting in the opposite seat where the switch and brake were located. The witch beside Sirius looked ready to make an alarmed comment on the very uneven weight distribution, but she didn't really have a chance to say anything at all- the brake had been released.

There was a loud groan, as though the cart were protesting being put to use yet again. And just as Sirius began doubting his impulsiveness, Hermione grasped for his arm blindly, wrapping herself around it with wide eyes and clenched teeth. Because, now that he looked, there was this giant drop off right in front of them...

There was a creaking noise, and a dip in the cart. It was getting ready to go over the edge. Hermione gave a whimper and pushed herself farther back into the seat and into him, as though it might tip back up again if she leaned far enough. It wasn't that bad, surely...

The goblin grinned nastily. "Going down."

Sirius swallowed.

And the cart went flying over the edge.

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"Here, Mister Black. Do you, perchance, have your key - or did you lose it?"

Sirius moved one hand back to smooth his hair down again. Hermione was very fervently murmuring into his shirt a mantra she'd perfected over the ride ("Never again, never again, never again..."). He tried to pry her off, but she was still holding very tightly. After a few prods, she released her death grip just a little and brought her face up to glare at him (after making sure they were on a flat track, of course).

"I am never trusting you again. Next time, you're getting petrified and dragged out before you can get us killed. Now I know why Lupin kept saying you were a menace..."

"Remus," he corrected her, realizing he'd found his insolent grin again.

Hermione narrowed her eyes at him. Then pulled her wand, pointing it at his chest.

"Jump," she growled. "Get out. Or I'll use this thing on you like I should've before."

Sirius chuckled. "You're the one that's still holding on," he informed her.

The woman blinked - then dropped his shirt from her hand and shook her head. "You're trying to get killed, I know it... just get what you need and let's go."

He shook his head. "Just come on in. I'll only be grabbing some money very quickly."

Hermione sighed and stood up uncertainly - the cart swayed just a little, and the goblin raised his eyebrows at her, as though to infer that she might fall if she didn't move. The woman leapt nimbly from the cart, though, and onto solid ground. She looked as though she might kiss it.

Sirius followed her, swinging his legs up and over the side and watching with an open mouth as it very nearly came off the track.

"Key?" the goblin repeated irritably.

He produced it, trying to mentally steel himself again and regain his swagger. This just wasn't natural.

The goblin snatched the key from his hand and pushed it into the lock, running his finger over the top of it while he did so. There was a grinding noise, then the door opened and the key was flicked carelessly back to Sirius (who barely managed to catch it and keep it from going over the edge and into darkness).

"Go on in," their guide growled. "And try not to take all day."

Sirius opened his mouth to tell him just what he thought of this idea - but Hermione grabbed him and moved him inside first, hand going over his mouth.

Once they were safely inside the vault, Hermione moaned. "Were you always like this or was I just not paying enough attention?"

He shrugged, her hand still over his mouth. This was how he dealt with...things. Crying didn't work, and was rather embarrassing - but snapping at people certainly made him feel better, in some ways. She was taking it much too seriously. Gringotts goblins were just as bound by the laws as everyone else (which included not murdering people when they felt like it).

"Please try to be more polite," she begged him, pulling her hand from his mouth. "Just... for my peace of mind!"

"We'll see," he muttered, eyes scanning the money and valuables inside the room. He heard rather than saw Hermione's first reaction - a gasp of surprise, and a hand going to cover her mouth. The Black family had been wealthy, for all that his mother had tried her hardest to keep him from inheriting any of it. But he'd try to keep her clear of the back of the vault - it was supposed to hold the items of dark magic the family had also been keeping. Seeing as none were alive but himself, he'd have to clean it out someday.

When he wasn't in jail, on the run, or trying to re-establish himself after nineteen years of 'being dead'.

Sirius frowned as he realized he didn't have any pouches on him.

"Hermione, may I borrow your wand for a bit?" he asked her, in keeping with his semi-promise to be polite.

She handed it to him with a blink, her other hand still over her mouth. If it was one thing he found comfort in, though, it was that she was one of the few people living he would trust with such a sight. The others being Dumbledore, Moony, and- well, scratch that, he thought with a lump in his throat.

He quickly picked up one of the uglier robes that had been thrown in a corner and transfigured a sleeve of it into a bag. Certainly, this would work for now.

Sirius worked as quickly as he could, pushing in what he thought he would need and adding just a little bit onto the top (she'd mentioned Christmas was soon, yes? He'd have to do something). It was only when he looked around that he realized he couldn't see her anymore.

Panicking, he darted his gaze around the vault. Where could she have gone, it wasn't as though there were many places to hide-

"What on earth is this?" he heard her murmuring from across the room. Shit. The back.

"Hermione, get away from there," he said sharply.

She couldn't hear him, though - he saw a flash of white somewhere back there, and immediately started toward it. The witch was reaching a hand forward to clasp something, eyes filmed over, mesmerized...

His eyes widened as he recognized it. Sirius moved quickly, running, slipping on coins, the bag dropping from his hand as her fingers moved to brush the surface of the mirror...

His hand grasped her wrist tightly, pulling it away just in time.

She blinked.

And he paused, barely balanced, in front of her.

"That," he ground out, "Would be a bad idea. Although it's really not anyone's fault but my own."

Hermione looked down at him and tensed. "What just happened?" she asked tightly.

Sirius swallowed, moving to stand up straight, and gestured with her wand. The robe without a sleeve moved to drape itself over the thing, and he breathed a sigh of relief.

"That would be a soul-trapping mirror. Very nasty little thing." At her widened eyes, he moved his hand to her shoulder to steady her. "Not permanent, no, but very hard to reverse. It would've been... troublesome."

Hermione glared at him. "Yes, I know what it is. Why on earth didn't you warn me your family kept such awful things in here?"

Sirius winced. "I was hoping to be in and out. Anyway, I wasn't sure what we had in here, precisely."

A pot in the back began to wriggle, and he decided it was high time to leave. That particular boggart had not liked him much at all - and the seal was just a little bit on the old side. "Why don't we go on up again?" he asked her brightly, using his hand on her shoulder to steer her back toward the entrance. "I'd say there's been more than enough adventure for one day."

Hermione gave him a sour look. "I'm apparating back myself this time. And if you get stuck, I'm not going to come looking."

He shrugged. "Fair enough."

And pushed her back over the rim of the cart, making it wobble unsteadily. Hermione yelped in surprise, pulling herself back up and warily looking over the sides as though it might still tip her. "I thought we'd talked about this polite thing!" she told him crossly, though the goose bumps on her skin rather took away from the effect. Sirius hopped in beside her easily, ignoring her gasped breath of fear.

"Going up..." the goblin said in a darkly amused hiss.

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It had been a long, long time. He had to admit that.

Before, there had always been that slight bit of uncertainty, the little shred of wild hope inside that said, You could just be dreaming. But now, looking at the outside of Diagon Alley, he was certain.

There was no going back.

It seemed brighter, busier, and more unfamiliar than ever he had known it. Had he not been completely certain of their location, he would have had to stop a passing wizard where they were. Because Diagon Alley had never had these shops, and something about it felt wrong.

Hermione seemed almost as taken aback by the changes time had wrought, even if she had been expecting something. Sirius thought numbly to himself that she was probably just as much a stranger here as he. It comforted him, just a little.

The worn down, creaky stone pathway was still there, surrounded by buildings. Except, there was no Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions. Neither was Flourish and Blott's in business, though it had been replaced by a rather conspicuous shop, with a triple 'W' as its title. Just as he was about to go investigate, however, Hermione gasped, hooked her arm through his and darted toward a different shop altogether. Sirius opened his mouth to say something unhappy about this, but was stopped abruptly by his a tinkling bell and his entrance into the small, musty shop.

It commanded silence and reverence. Nothing less would do.

Sirius let his arm drop from hers and tried to remember the last time he'd been in there, staring around in wonder at the shelves of wands, all neatly boxed and seemingly waiting...

"You say muggle-born wizards get their wands here too?"

"Oh, some of them, Mr. Black. I wouldn't be arrogant enough to assume all of their business for myself."

A smile.

"I think I have the wand for you, as well..."

"Sirius!"

The whisper snapped him from his memory, and he turned to look back toward the desk.

An old man sat serenely behind it, on a well-used stool, with a calm but powerful gleam in his silvered eyes.

"Ah. I was expecting you, Mr. Black."