Lost and Found

Chapter 19 - An Interesting Turn of Events

"You always were quick on the uptake," Sirius said quietly. "Except for once - but that time was special, wasn't it, Hermione?"

She trembled, wishing she'd gotten it just that much sooner, wishing she hadn't been so stupid...

"No imitation is perfect," she found herself whispering. But for the flaw to be so obvious, the potion had to have been made by someone of very little skill... she'd know who in a moment, of course.

His lip curled derisively, as though he knew what she were thinking. "The only Polyjuice potion you can get on such short notice is in Knockturn Alley. The shops there are not known for quality."

There was her answer, then.

"Who are you?" she managed in a voice that came out much more shaky than she could've wished.

"You know me already," he told her, leaning forward with a smirk that looked much too close to Sirius' for comfort. She cringed away as the tip of her own wand touched her heart.

"If you knew enough to imitate him, you know he's going to be back soon, too," she said in an almost steady voice.

The wand flicked once, and something inside of her tore. Hermione hissed in pain as something hot and sticky trailed down her arm.

"Let's not start with the lies already," he said mildly. "You and I both know your little friend is staying with dear old Moony." He smiled at her discomfort. "Unfortunately, Veritaserum is much more difficult to come upon than Polyjuice potion. We'll have to do this the old fashioned way now that I can't get it through touch." His hand moved to trace her cheek and she recoiled in disgust. He frowned.

"You were a little more responsive when you thought I was him," he told her. "Isn't that Sirius all over, though? Only has to walk into a room to get a couple of girls trailing after him. Thought you were smarter than that." She saw him smile and lay a book down on the table, apparently awaiting her reaction.

Leather, bound with gold cord. He'd used a linking charm, reading everything as she wrote it, in a separate but similar diary...

She ignored the pang of violation and refused to let it show on her face. "He's a good person," she told her unknown assailant. "That's why people care about him."

Sirius flicked the wand at her again - the little gash on her thumb reopened. She steadfastly ignored it.

"We're not here to talk about how wonderful he is," he told her with a cold look. "How did you bring him back?"

Hermione stared at him. What?

"Did you not hear me or have you suddenly been struck deaf?" he said in a fury, and she watched with horrified fascination as Sirius' features twisted into an expression she'd never seen him use before. "Because if you are deaf, there's no reason to keep your ears attached to you."

She swallowed. "I don't know," she said.

He looked at her appraisingly before jabbing at her again with her wand. She was ready this time, though, and she twisted to the side, avoiding the wand and grabbing at his hand. He cursed and kicked out at her - her arm buckled, and she realized he had intentionally weakened it. Hermione held on desperately with her other hand, ignoring the spreading pain in her shin, and lashed out with her own leg, trying to hook the back of his knee. When he realized what she was trying to do, he pushed forward, and she found herself overborne by his weight.

The two crashed to the floor together, and Hermione felt a sharp pain in the back of her head where it hit the leg of the table. Stars blossomed in front of her eyes - she moaned as she tried to move and found herself temporarily unable to do so.

Sirius stood up again, her wand clutched safely in his hand. He brought it to bear on her then, muttering the now-familiar full-body bind. And then, she was unable to move.

"Perhaps," he panted, black hair falling in a mess in front of his eyes, "Perhaps I haven't gotten through to you the importance of your compliance." And she knew suddenly what he was going to do, before he even moved. "Crucio!"

Sharp pain - it was usually compared to a thousand needles being driven into her skin, but that wasn't correct at all. It was more like someone peeling her open forcibly, laying bare her nerves and then driving nails into each and every one. Fire in her blood, burning everything and demanding her attention in a way nothing else could.

She was aware of wanting to scream. Her heart pumped furiously, and her muscles tried to tense but failed. Her head pounded with the need - a need ingrained so far in her as her need to breathe - and hot tears worked their way free of her eyelids.

Then, it was over suddenly, and she was able to move again. Hermione gasped and screamed before realizing the pain was gone, leaving lingering the violent spasms of muscles that hadn't been able to move before.

"Interesting, isn't it?" Sirius' voice asked, and she wanted to cry at the fact that it was his. "I discovered that particular combination of spells when the Dark Lord used them on me himself. He was quite good at what he did - absolutely brilliant." He grinned in a way that made her sick, an expression of adoration and obedience so ingrained in him that no amount of years could possibly wash it away.

"He's dead, though," she said hoarsely. "Harry killed him."

A strange shiver passed over his face, and the expression disappeared. "Yes. Yes, he is, isn't he? But it still hasn't disappeared... it won't, not until I bring him back..."

At these words a horror uncurled in her stomach, and she realized why he was there. He thought she could help him bring back the Dark Lord. But that wasn't possible, it had been so specific and so fortunate... and the Dark Lord hadn't just fallen beyond the Veil, he had been killed...

"I can't," she gasped. "I really can't. I swear it."

He frowned at her, and she watched with wide eyes as his hair began to change. It was no longer dark and smooth - parts of it were fading to a dull yellow color while other parts simply disappeared entirely. His face was screwed up in distaste as it began to bubble and change...

Hermione turned her head, trying to hold down the little she had in her stomach. The potion hadn't been made correctly - the transformation wasn't pleasant. It would be painful to the extreme, like being torn apart and put back together again...

A hand grabbed her chin and drew her back to face him.

She felt the blood drain from her face.

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"Sirius Black. What an honor to have you back among the living again."

The voice sounded like it was anything but pleased.

Sirius frowned. "Snape," he said simply.

The other man, still wearing his usual black robes but now with more wrinkles and more graying hair, surveyed him with a nasty look. "Headmaster, if this is my Christmas present, I'd rather take the socks."

Dumbledore chuckled. "Never fear, Severus, you'll have your socks this year."

Snape's expression soured further, if it were at all possible.

Lupin sighed and shook his head. "I'm afraid I have no time for this, Severus," he said. "As you well know, I'm going to have to go somewhere more private in-" he checked his watch, which showed the lunar phases on it. "-about ten minutes."

The group of people congregated in the Great Hall was small this year - very few students had decided to stay behind, and those that had were staying as far away from Snape as possible.

Malfoy calmly ignored the altercation and picked at his steak absently, shooting amused glances at Professor Sinistra as she tried to keep calm her poor black cat while it ate its dinner right next to Firenze the centaur.

"Good hunting, Lupin!" the platinum-haired Potions master called absently as the man left. "Catch a few phase mice if you're up to it - I'm almost out of their blood!"

Lupin shot him a wry smile and left - behind him, Sirius kept his angry gaze focused on Snape before disappearing around the corner.

Malfoy, completely calm up until a moment ago, suddenly sat bolt upright in his seat and swore loudly. Sinistra shot him a reproving look before realizing her cat had run off.

"Nearly forgot," the man muttered. "Christmas Eve, too, what was I thinking-"

He leapt to his feet, forgetting for the moment that his steak was getting cold, and ran after the two.

The staff members sat in silence for a moment, staring at each other in surprise and, in some cases, open dislike.

"Ah!" Dumbledore said amusedly, breaking the silence as he pulled something from his chocolate frog package. "I've gotten my own card again!"

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"You're dead," she stated simply, ignoring the churning in her stomach.

The man smiled. "Yes, you would think that, wouldn't you?" He ran his hand over her wand absently, only now his fingers were silvery and slick. "People are often stupid at the worst of times, though."

Hermione felt her eyes narrow, and she spat at him. She managed to hit his shoe. "You're nothing but a coward. That's three times now you've pretended to die."

He was no longer short and fat - still short, but now bony, emaciated to the point of disgust. Sirius' spare robes hung off him in folds, driving home the fact that his cheeks were hollow and his face was gaunt. A rat without a master...

Peter Pettigrew chuckled. "Yes of course. But don't you want to know how I did it? You always were the know-it-all... shouldn't you want to know the one mystery you never solved before I torture and kill you?"

His words scared her more than she could have wanted - he seemed to realize it to some extent, because he started talking with relish. "Transfiguration has never been my easiest subject," he told her. "I could have transformed some tree branch into a rat, of course, but it wouldn't have passed for me. I had to actually buy one and cut off one of its fingers - oh, don't look so sick, it's just an animal. I had to curse it myself to disfigure it enough to pass - Nymphadora Tonks didn't have enough power to do such damage herself. That's why she was so puzzled when the corpse was so charred..."

Pettigrew smirked at her sudden discomfort. "She started to wonder at the truth, of course - if she'd really done it. Curious that they never found the person that killed her, isn't it?"

Hermione bit into the side of her cheek, and tasted bitter blood. "Bastard!" she managed.

He shrugged in an eerily calm way. "I've realized, though, that life isn't quite so treasured as everyone makes it out to be. After all..." an odd gleam came into his eyes, "After all, they put me in Azkaban for a year - strange that the Dementors saved me when no one else would. Hardly a noble act."

She trembled with fury. "And you put Sirius in there for twelve years. You don't have the right to talk like that." She hadn't known that he'd been in there for a year, though. Perhaps that had been during the time she hadn't been paying attention...

His hand shot out, then, to grasp her throat. She coughed, but didn't look away from his mad eyes. "You can't bother me," he hissed at her. "You're at my mercy. Two words from me and you'll never say anything again - like that, wouldn't you? Never see dear Padfoot again?" Peter's lips twisted into a strangely happy smile. "I wonder what he would do, coming back to find your mangled body. Do you think he'd go mad?"

"You've gone mad," she told him angrily, and she found the strength to struggle again as her muscles stopped spasming quite so much. "You didn't have a true thought to hold on to in Azkaban-"

Pettigrew's fingers tightened on her throat, cutting off the rest of her sentence. "Don't you ever speak that word again," he hissed. "You haven't been there, you don't know!"

Hermione gasped for air, but felt something block it. She panicked, lashing out, but Pettigrew held his hand steady, watching with an insane pleasure as her struggles slowed, then stopped.

Black encroached on her vision. She felt her arms slacken, her body beginning to shut down...

And then, at the last possible moment, he'd thrown her away, and she was sucking in air as fast as she could, blinking away the spots.

"You will tell me how to bring him back," Pettigrew hissed at her. "If Sirius can come back, then so can he-"

"He can't!" she tried to yell, but all she managed to do was breathe.

Pettigrew stalked toward her, blue eyes glittering malevolently. "Do you want to see how long you can scream?" he asked her. "I can make you scream all night. I took the liberty of setting up silence wards when I came before to get his hair, so no one will know..."

Hermione looked past him to see some of the chess pieces suddenly having an epiphany. "So he was the bloke," one muttered. "Seem to remember now, put that charm on us..."

"Poor old Prott," Pettigrew said on inspiration. "So easy to fool, you know. And then, your face when I came to the door - I had to use a particularly strong Confundus charm, one of my only true strengths, really. It was awfully amusing to have you treat me like some love-struck man..."

She gritted her teeth, trying not to hiss angrily and failing. "You're an idiot," she told him. "Kill me now if you want, but there's nothing to know."

Pettigrew laughed shrilly, and she found she could see the Azkaban in him. It was different, darker than Sirius' own Azkaban, and she knew that while he'd only been there a year, he'd relived some very cruel things. She found a grim satisfaction in this. "Obviously, you're missing the point," he told her. "I have to finish the job even if I don't get anything out of you. A point of pride, if you will."

He pointed her wand at her again, almost lazily this time, and said, "Crucio."

This time, there was no binding on her, and she could feel her body arch in pain under the curse. But she bit down on her tongue - she wouldn't scream, not for him, not even for this...

Pettigrew frowned, and she felt the pain intensify. A shriek tore its way past her unwilling lips, and she let out a frustrated sob. But the pain didn't end immediately this time, it went on and on and on, until she felt her throat close up and her body tear and her eyes burn...

She wasn't immediately aware of it when it stopped this time - her sore muscles had cramped, and were spasming so hard that she couldn't quite tell the difference.

"Perhaps we'll go full circle," he whispered, though her vision had blackened to the point of darkness. "All three Unforgivables. Fitting, don't you think? We save the best for last, of course..."

And then, she heard his harsh voice, as though it were a part of her. "Imperio."

A light-headed sensation. Giddiness. Nothing hurt anymore, it was all just a happy, blissful, floating, nothing.

Get to your knees.

Hermione frowned and ignored the voice. She seemed to remember this, seemed to remember resisting it just because she had to, once upon a time.

Get on your knees and crawl!

She hesitated, but refused again. It began to build up, though, like an itch she dearly wanted to scratch. And really, what did it matter if she did it? It wasn't as though it would hurt anyone...

She felt herself slide to her knees stiltingly, though something in her was still resisting.

Kiss my hand, like a good little Mudblood.

At this, she felt her face crunch up in disgust. No. No, she wouldn't do that.

You dare to disobey me?

A pain shot through her temple, and she hissed. No, she wouldn't. She wouldn't!

She bit at her lip, and suddenly the real pain brought her back to herself. Hermione made to lunge again, but Pettigrew drew back just in time. The word "Stupefy!" crossed his lips, probably by reflex since the Cruciatus curse was just as useful, and her eyes rolled back into her head.

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"Hermione- Hermione! God, wake up, please-"

Someone was shaking her. She groaned as she felt their fingers digging into her arm, where blood was still running freely. The person above her heaved a sigh of relief.

Wait.

Peter!

She bolted upright and immediately regretted it - she hit foreheads with someone, and subsequently fell back into the cushions, swearing. "I'll kill him," she said hoarsely, "I'll kill him, that bastard-" Hermione opened her eyes, but found her vision was swimming. A shadow loomed over her, but she couldn't make out the features.

"Hermione, what happened?"

No. Impossible.

Although, granted, she'd thought that before, and been wrong.

"Sirius?" she managed, putting a hand to her head. But wait, she couldn't tell, his eyes- "Very amusing," she hissed, sitting up and trying not to sway. "Think you're really clever, don't you?"

There was a pause. "Hermione, are you okay?"

"The fuck I am, you bastard-" First time in recent history she'd seen fit to use that word. Well, wasn't as though the situation didn't warrant it. She tried to rise, but she could barely make out his figure, and even if he'd had her wand, she wouldn't have been able to tell. Hermione found, then, that she, well, wasn't standing anymore. In point of fact, she had collapsed into a heap on the floor, her weak legs unable to hold her.

"What's wrong with you?" he asked, pulling her up. "Have you been drinking?"

She pulled away from him as best she could, but the strength to do so wasn't there. "Why the hell would I be drinking?" she hissed. "And when would I do it, at the point where you tortured me? Maybe I did it while I was unconscious, I'm just talented like that-"

There was a pause.

"Wonderful. I'm beginning to think I've been drinking." He sighed. "I just came by to drop off Malfoy's present - don't know why he got you anything, but he said the owl couldn't find the house on its own... you looked like you were dead, for God's sake, don't scare me like that-"

"How do you know about Malfoy?" she muttered. "I wouldn't write about him..."

Her tremors increased, and she felt her legs buckle again. Pettigrew caught her, and she resisted the urge to let herself fall unconscious again. Because this was not Sirius, however much it might feel like him-

Hermione stiffened as the black cleared from her vision.

Gray eyes.

"Ohhhh..." she moaned. "This isn't good. Get out now."

He blinked. "What?"

"He's going to be back in a second, probably checking for anything I might've written down-"

"Who are you talking about?" Sirius demanded, arms tightening on her. "You've done nothing but spout nonsense since-"

"Pettigrew," Hermione said urgently, "He's not dead. Look, the small, thin present, the one in red-" Sirius was gaping at her. "-get it and hide in the kitchen, damnit, or he'll just kill you. I mean it, he has the wand, he won't hesitate-"

He was moving now, but he was also holding on to her. Hermione decided then that while Sirius was admirably brave and sometimes dashing, he just didn't have the patience for intelligent plans. "Let me go," she said.

Sirius didn't bother to respond, but picked up the small present and gave it to her. Footsteps were coming from the hallway. Hermione thought her heart might burst from the strain. Then, with something she thought had to be a Herculean effort, she stamped on his foot and dashed for the hallway, dropping the present as she went and shooting him a meaningful look. Sirius swore, picking it up and moving after her.

She had to say one thing - Pettigrew's face was absolutely priceless as she barreled into him. His breath left him as he fell, but she noticed in a panic that he wasn't holding her wand. Where was it, had he left it somewhere-

He was reaching into a pocket, though, and she lunged desperately, knowing as she did that she was much too late.

"Rictasempra!" he gasped. She felt feather light touches begin on her sides, escalating to just below her chin - Hermione gasped, biting down on her cheek to keep from laughing. How would he know to use that, there was no way he could know how ticklish she was-

Oh. He was Ron's rat for three years.

Pettigrew stood, wincing, and pointed the wand at her again. She knew what he was going to do, then, it was obvious. But she could withstand it this time.

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He didn't understand what the hell she was playing at, but he did know she wasn't about to go rushing off being the hero. This was much too serious.

Sirius held Hermione tightly, moving toward the kitchen and letting her open the present. Footsteps were sounding in the hallway, and he realized with a stupefying thought that they were Peter's footsteps, the traitor's footsteps, and he was going to see him for the first time in two years. No, not two-

Hermione's foot came down on his foot, and he let her go in surprise. She shot him a furious look - before rushing into the hallway.

Sirius swore and picked up the package, moving after her-

There was a squawk of surprise and sounds of a struggle. Then, a voice, a voice he knew, cried, "Rictasempra!"

He was almost there - he could see Pettigrew now, standing over her convulsing figure, readying the wand with a maddened, disheveled look. There was a moment of understanding, as he realized what the short, now-bony man was about to do. "Cruci-"

Sirius lunged, tossing him backward and ramming his elbow into his ribs angrily. This man was the reason he'd survived Azkaban, the reason Lily and James were dead- the reason Harry was dead, to an extent, and the reason Hermione was broken-

Whatever surprise he'd had on Pettigrew wore off as the man struggled in his grip, grappling with a strength borne of desperation. Too late, he saw the man's hand reaching behind him for the wand he'd dropped-

"Crucio!" he gasped, and Sirius felt himself split into a million different pieces, all screaming and dying at once-

Pettigrew was on his feet now, staring at him with a twisted face of glee as the curse intensified. Sirius bit down on the pain and shot his hand out to grab the man's ankle, pulling it out from under him. It was amazingly thin - had he wanted to, he felt he could almost have snapped it... He was vaguely aware of Hermione attempting and failing to get up behind him, her limbs trembling with the effort, her face pale white as her hand reached for something...

The pain didn't end as the other man toppled, but it lessened somewhat. Sirius grabbed at the wand, spots of color obstructing his view, and managed to close the fingers of his right hand around it. The spell ended, giving his awareness a push, and he choked.

Peter gave the wand one good pull and stumbled back, pointing it at him. "You- I don't believe it- what happened to playing with Moony?"

Sirius snarled at him, contemplating attacking him again, but watching the wand with caution. "What do you care? You've betrayed us, you don't give a shit! You really were a rat, weren't you-"

An insane smile made its way onto Peter's face. "Yes. Yes I was, the whole time. And you trusted me, and I trusted you not to notice - there was a little guilt, of course, but the Dark Lord purged it easily. He's a great man - and he will be again, as soon as she tells me how to bring him back."

Sirius felt the blood drain from his face. That was what he was after? He'd never thought to ask how she'd done it, was it possible-?

"You're not needed anymore, though, Padfoot old friend," he said with a glitter in his eyes. "Just think, you've evaded death almost as many times as I've faked it. I wonder if she'll be able to save you from the grave again..." The wand raised, and Sirius tensed, readying himself. This was going to have to be quick.

Wormtail licked his lips, smiling, bringing it down. "Avada Kedavra!"

A scream came from behind him as he leapt toward the traitor. It wasn't until he saw the wand go flying that he realized Hermione had screamed a word. "Expelliarmus!"

There was a flash of light, and something grazed him, sending chills through his body - his heart froze and he choked, stumbling. He was vaguely aware of a hard stop as his head hit the floor, and a shudder wracked him as the world disappeared.