Found Wanting

Found Wanting

Chapter 3: Close Encounters

Eight years ago, Ben had woken up in a hospital bed, seemingly unhurt and perfectly healthy. But once the routine questions had begun to be asked, it was proven that this man was not average.

"Any family near here?"

"What's your name?"

"Do you have any allergies?"

"Where are you from?"

A blank stare with a small, almost unnoticeable shrug was the most intelligible answer they had managed to receive.

After many tests and even fewer answers, the mysterious man had been reluctantly released from the hospital, considering he had not been proven harmful to himself or others. One of the nurses there had dubbed him Ben Smith, and he kept the name as he wandered through the following years, working minimum wage jobs and moving from apartment to apartment. A few times he had been out on the streets, result of his need to constantly change jobs and residence, and he had not had enough money for flat rent. He wasn't sure why, but he had a very distinct feeling that staying in one place, or exposing himself to too many people wouldn't be a good idea. He put it off as a shy instinct, and continued his odd lifestyle. Despite the lack of a résumé, the young man's charm and promise of good work led him into many employer's trust... and more than a few's pants.

Ben soon found that his charm was not always good enough to get the job he desired - sometimes a little extra was needed to become employed by a lonely, working woman. And he happened to have plenty of that extra something - known as sexual stamina. Most of the woman had slobbish husbands who worked daily, came home, pumped her a few times, and collapsed unconscious on top of her, the beginnings of drool already evident. After getting used to this depressing and somewhat disgusting sex life, it was a thrilling and beautiful experience to have a young, experienced man like Ben lure you into bed. And, in return, only wanting some tedious little job at the restaurant she managed or owned.

Now, unbeknownst to him, a new chapter in his life had opened - or maybe, depending on how you view it, reopened.

***

Ben quickly finished up with his last customer of the day, running back to the employee bathroom and releasing what he had been holding in the last two hours. He took his apron off and rolled it up, tossing it to Alessandro on the way out, who grinned and thanked him. He had the next shift - the night shift, where most of the insomniacs around those parts came for their nightly dose of caffeine.

Slightly surprised, Ben realized that his date for the evening had already arrived, and was seated at a vacant table near the front of the store, near the door. He took in her appearance with a quick once-over, and noticed that she seemed slightly anxious, her appearance slightly ruffled.

Since she had not seemed the type to be a nervous dater that morning, he frowned, wondering what could possibly be affecting the brunette so much.

Despite the doubt now trampling over her excitement, Hermione couldn't help but take notice of the changes that had somehow taken place in Sirius. Physical changes, that is, besides the obvious amnesia.

Surprisingly, aging was not one of these changes. If anything, Sirius looked much younger. How much more youthful, she was unsure of, but she did notice that his perpetual weariness and slightly creased skin were both gone. But, most noticeably missing, was the look in his eyes. They no longer appeared haunted, black and angry at his fate and past losses. No more did Sirius Black's eyes show the hell he had been through, the hell he had lived in until they day he died.

And, more importantly, the hell he didn't deserve.

"Hey -" he stopped abruptly as the fact hit him that he was unaware of the enigma's name.

Grinning slightly in greeting, Hermione blinked, realizing what vital information he was in need of. "Oh! Hermione! My name is Hermione."

He smiled, speaking her name. "Hermione."

Hermione slightly shivered at the way he spoke it, how each consonant rolled off of his tongue so smoothly, and not to mention the utterly sexy expression he wore while doing it. Mentally pinching herself, she decided that she was thoroughly attracted to her friend's godfather, but was also disturbed greatly by it.

"You're one of the very few who can say my name correctly." She smiled, hoping to get her mind off of the weird lust she was experiencing. She stood up, and Ben moved to open the door for her, also still smiling, although more aloofly.

"So, Chinese sound good to you?"

An improvement from the cozy little Italian place she had thought of.

***

Fifteen minutes later, the couple found themselves seated at a starkly white table in Chow's Dragon Express, both attempting to use those foreign instruments for eating, known as chopsticks. Hermione had more success than Ben, considering she was an avid lover of Chinese food, but her hands still weren't perfectly talented at the fine art. After many giggles and fallen food pieces, the two managed to use a type of shovel and dart method, that required quick hand movements before aforementioned food pieces could escape their fate and fall to the table below.

"So, Hermione," Ben began after succeeding in eating a whole piece of chicken without any mishaps, "what do you do for fun?"

"Hmm." The brunette paused for a moment, taking a small sip of her soft drink and contemplating her answer. She had been vastly surprised to discover how easy it was to be comfortable around Ben - he was just so damn charming and sociable! She remembered how very little she had gotten along with Sirius years ago - how she utterly loathed his immaturity... but, yet, how she still came to love and respect him, thinking of him as a genuine friend. But besides her obvious comfort with Ben, she remained nervous as she thought constantly about how she would break the news to him. Could you even call the great important revelation of a lifetime news...?

Suddenly she gave a small, sharp laugh, buried pain and grief underlying its tones, but she herself took no notice. "I don't do much for fun - at least... not anymore."

Ben cocked an eyebrow, looking up from prodding his meal with the thin wooden stick to observe her stoic features, as she surveyed her small hand lying dormant on the table surface.

"Not anymore? Why's that? Did something happen that made you just kinda give up on enjoying life?" He said it with a small, playful smile, not even noticing how harsh his words sounded... and definitely not knowing how harshly true they were. But somehow, subconsciously perhaps, Ben felt that with that inquiry, he would come to know about her past a little more, perhaps even know what drove him so crazy about her.

Why does she make me feel so...

much? Every emotion she has, every expression she makes - I just... I feel.

He had always been an empathetic person, but never to such a grand degree such as this. If only he knew that his empathy was so acute in her case because of his buried, caring nature towards this girl, and his past history with her.

"I just - something - dammit, Siri - Ben..." He frowned in confusion as she became flustered, dropping her chop sticks down and putting her head in her hands.

He's not supposed to be making me confront and relive

my past. Sodding hell, how did this get so switched around?

"Yes?" Ben searched her face for a sign or clue to her distress, when he caught a familiar shine in her eye. She knew something - some tidbit of information, something that she felt she needed to tell him. She was nearly bursting with the rigorous effort of keeping this data inside, and he eagerly wanted to ease her burden, although more for his sake than her own. "Yes?" he pressed again, this time more urgently. After a near decade of never having answers, you begin to see the knowledge of things beyond you in another's eyes - you begin to see the things you never had the chance to know or see... you begin to see a whole world of answers - answers that may not apply to you, but were answers nonetheless.

Finally coming to the terms that she must face him and spill her hidden intentions, Hermione found it more difficult than had been anticipated. She had, in the little time spent with him, come to the conclusion that this man, was, without a doubt in her mind, Sirius Black. She had noticed the way most of his questions had been directed to aspects of the present or future, in case the question was directed right back to him in response. She had also noticed that his expressions and wit were a dead match to the precious Padfoot.

"Just tell me," he whispered, commanding but nervous.

Looking up, she half lidded her golden eyes and exhaled deeply, trying to derive the best way to come out with her burden. She wasn't sure how to make it sound believable...

Finally, she decided on the easiest and simplest way, brought to her by a memory of Sirius one day, hanging around Grimmauld Place.

Sirius was bored out of his mind, fluttering about (in a very manly way) the house, talking to whoever would listen, just for a little company.

He had subsequently stumbled across a pair of teenage girls sitting in a dark corner of the house, near one of the stairwells.

Ginny and Hermione had both looked up after hearing his footsteps approach, ceasing their discussion and staring somewhat embarrassedly at the older person. Ginny's pale skin flushed vibrantly, reminding Sirius viciously of Lily when she had gotten angry... mainly at the Marauders.

Smirking, the man's black eyes suddenly jumped back to life for the moment. "Why so guilty-looking, ladies? Anything I need to know?"

Ginny turned an even more vibrant shade of red, despite what science says is the human limit of blushing, and Hermione gave a small nervous cough.

"No!" The brunette of the two said quickly, brushing a strand of hair out of her face. "No, nothing-"

"Hermione, you're a horrible liar." Sirius tutted and shook his head disappointedly at her, causing her face to tinge red with anger and embarrassment.

"I had a dream!" Ginny blurted, hoping to prevent Hermione from yelling at poor Sirius again. She never really understood why her friend felt so unkindly towards the sweet, innocent man.

"What?" Sirius turned his attention to the redhead, a confused expression marring his features.

Ginny blushed, looking steadfastly at the floor. "A dream."

"Ah, well a lot of us dream. What was it about, love?"

Ginny barely surpassed a shudder at the innocent but sweet nickname. "I- I can't... say."

Sirius chuckled, leaning casually against the wall, crossing his ankles. Hermione grimaced sympathetically as she noticed the way his sweater hung off of his horribly thin frame. She really did like Sirius; she sometimes couldn't handle his arrogant statements and let her temper have its way, making her feel rather guilty afterwards.

"Ginny." Sirius moved from his casual position on the wall to kneel down in front of the nerve-wracked teen, eyes level. "Sometimes, when you have something difficult to say... you just say it. Tell that inner doubting voice to shut the hell up, and just

say it." He flashed her a charming grin, still only a skeletal remain of what he was once capable of.

Ginny, captivated by his honest words and the fact that he deemed her mature enough to cuss to, let her guts spill. "I kissed you."

Sirius was obviously taken aback for a moment, and gaped wordlessly and the girl nervously chewing her lip. Then, he laughed. "You kissed me in a dream?

That's what you were embarrassed about?"

Ginny looked up, her dark blue eyes wide and shocked. "You mean - you don't, mind?"

Sirius chuckled again, "Of course not, love. It's your dream, isn't it?"

The youngest Weasley grinned shyly, nodding, as Sirius stood up, still smiling. Hermione and Ginny soon followed suit, dusting off their backsides as they made their way towards the staircase.

"Oh, and Ginny?" Sirius called after them, causing her to turn back around towards him.

Sirius took two full steps towards her, and gently kissed her on the cheek, causing her skin to flare up to match her hair. "Be a little more self-confident - you're a beautiful girl."

Since then, Hermione had held Sirius in a much higher respect, now fully aware of just how much he cared to make those around him happy. And on top of that, his advice seemed fairly logical - life was just too short to be blubbering on about embarrassment.

Now, years later, she used this man's own advice to speak to him. "I know who you are, Ben. Who you really are - I know who you used to be."

Don't get your hopes up, she could be some random loony,

Ben thought as he stared at Hermione, contemplating her. But he knew she wasn't some loony. She was something else, something different, for sure.

He asked the one question that had burned in his mind for so exceedingly long, the one question no person should be denied an answer to.

I just want to hear it, please - God, please...

"What's my name?"

Hermione was preparing herself to utter the one statement that the man in front of her seemed to crave more than anything, but something had managed to catch her eye.

A blond in frayed blue jeans with the body of a soccer player had just entered Chow's. It was her boyfriend, Darren, and he was wearing a slightly angered expression. Knowing how jealous Darren could become, she quickly stood up, motioning for Ben to stay put and patient.

She felt guilty, nearly entirely forgetting Darren's existence in the day's events.

"What are you doing here, 'Mione, and who is that guy?"

Hermione merely shook her head, grabbing the blonde's hand and pulling him back out the way he had come in.

"Darren," she began, but immediately was at a loss as to what to say. She desperately wished for some of her cleverness from that morning to return, but after a few silent moments decided that Draco had thoroughly knocked it out of her.

Then it hit her like a ton of bricks to the head - it didn't matter.

Whatever she said to Darren, whatever he thought about her and Ben, didn't have any relation to her life anymore.

"Darren, I'm leaving for... " Good. She knew she should say the word, but just couldn't bring herself to say that to the man who had given her his everything, despite her lack of appreciation for it. "... a few days."

His eyes widened as he heard the words, and he prepared himself to begin yelling about her running away with another man, but she held a finger to his lips.

Do it. Get it over with.

"Just listen. You're probably never going to see me again... Ah, I'm not one for dramatics..." She seemed almost giddy about the conversation, but all Darren noticed was her seemingly crazed babbling. "I'm not like you. I don't belong with you - hell, I don't belong in this world. I have something I need to do, and I've decided..." She paused here, wondering briefly if she could just turn back, call it a joke, and go back to normal. Ah, normal... Yes, she would go back to normal.

All of those years, and not once had she missed it. Not once had she wanted to go back. But that place had been where she had grown up, where she had loved, where she had killed... And now, she would die there. But more importantly, she was okay with it. Draco was right - she couldn't hide from what she was, what was in her very blood.

"I've decided to go home."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Darren snapped, observing his girlfriend with disbelief. "Are you trying to tell me... that the guy over there is some kind of ex-boyfriend, or something? And that you're going back to him...?"

Darren clearly did not understand. But how could he? His usually sensible woman stood in front of him, babbling about never seeing him again, and returning home. And to top all of that, she had this odd look in her eyes, like she was staring down some gorgeous but horribly deadly jungle cat. She looked absolutely determined, and if he weren't so angry, he'd be a little bit intrigued.

"Oh, Darren..." Hermione bit her lip, staring at him in a way that clearly showed as pity. "You can't understand - you never will..." The blond man before her, the epitome of an athlete, did not have the capacity to know what she was. Dark, powerful, light, magic... "Just... I'm leaving." She had tried to say sorry, but failed horribly. She had been through too much that day to care about anyone's feelings at the moment.

"The hell you are!" Darren growled as she turned around to head back into the restaurant, grabbing her arm in a steel grip, tears forming in his eyes.

Hermione whipped around, her eyes flashing in anger, causing Darren to release her arm quickly and look down for a moment, ashamed of his temper, before meeting those smoldering eyes.

"'Mione..." he whispered, almost like a whimper. He didn't want to be alone, and he sure as hell didn't understand why he should be left alone.

Shaking her head slightly, Hermione felt the beginnings of tears behind her eyes. She was being so cruel to this man - the very same one who had unknowingly helped her fall into the monotony of a muggle life.

Turning back towards the door, Hermione heard him take a sharp intake of breath, almost like she had physically slapped him, but she kept moving away steadily. She was going, not only away from her old life of lies and secrets, but to her future - Sirius awaited her, her old friends awaited her, and the War awaited her. Most not very promising aspects, but they were what she was a part of.

"Come on." Hermione motioned to the dazed man still seated at a nearby table.

"What?" He looked up, utterly confused. "I thought you were going to tell me-"

But she said nothing as she grabbed his hand, tugging him out of the door and onto the sidewalk. Still in a daze, Ben mumbled, "We didn't pay for our food."

A string of Oriental curses followed them as Hermione increased their pace, quickly ducking down a nearby alley. It smelled of urine and alcohol, with a tinge of trash. It made her feel alive, being in that dark alley, holding the hand of the man with enchanting eyes. She had just run out on her boyfriend, and skipped the bill for dinner. But it didn't matter - nothing as trivial as that would ever matter to her again.

Heart pounding, Hermione heard a loud clap of thunder nearby. Ben jumped, his nerves still on edge, but his dark eyes remained focused on her, a slight glare upon his face.

Almost wanting to chuckle at his impatience, she spoke, "Sirius! You're name is Sirius. Like the star. Sirius Orion Black." As she said this, she looked up at the sky in the falling darkness, but there were no visible stars.

"Sirius." He let his own name slip off of his tongue, much as he had done for his company's name prior.

Hermione was now running her hand against the rough surface of the brick wall, whispering to herself.

"Hermione!" She turned at the call of her name, to see Sirius walking nearer to her, a small smile on his face. "What else can you tell me? Tell me everything you know!"

Looking up again from an interesting crack in the wall, she tilted her head to the side, as if debating whether or not she could speak of such things.

"I... there's a lot to know." She gave a small laugh, before straightening her facial expressions. "And I know someone who can help." Someone whose motives I need to find out.

Sirius gave her a long hard look, his heart thumping loudly in his chest. He could barely comprehend anything, his emotions were on high, and his thoughts seemed slippery and hard to grasp. Another loud clap of thunder made him jump, but the woman in front of him merely relaxed against the wall, a calm expression on her face as the rain began drizzling down upon them.

"Come with me," she whispered, and despite his horridly disorientated state, he clearly saw how sensuous she looked at that moment. Her thin hand held out as an invitation, her eyes lined and smoldering, her clothes and hair already beginning to cling to her, and she looked so esoteric. Without noticing his own body's dryness greatly decreasing, Sirius almost unknowing took her hand, and she pushed herself from the wall, removing something from her pocket.

The last thing he noticed was a bolt of lightning in the darkening sky before he felt his feet lift from solid ground and his vision darkened.

***

I hope I don't splinch us,

Hermione worried.

Her hope was answered as her feet made solid contact with the cold floors of Grimmauld Place, at the same time as Sirius.

Hermione was unsure as to how to walk around the House, probably quite full of Order members, without them noticing a dead man and a backstabber. All she knew was that she was dreading her encounter with the Headmaster, the man that had changed her life in so many ways.

But before she could begin to think of a plan, she heard footsteps coming from down the hall to her left. She quickly grabbed Sirius and shoved him into a room down the hall that she knew to be a closet, and he obediently remained quiet, too stunned by the earlier display of what had to be magic to really put up much of a fight.

Please be Draco, please be Draco...

she thought desperately as the footsteps finally rounded the corner.

It was Tonks.

Hermione froze, completely unprepared to deal with the people that she had betrayed two years ago. It was then she also realized that the password Draco had given her had slipped her mind amongst the evening's activities.

Tonks' eyes widened for a moment, then she approached Hermione, her wand in her right hand. "We didn't expect you to arrive for a while yet."

Hermione stuttered. Is Tonks treating me civilly? "Er, yeah, sorry... Did Draco tell you...?"

Tonks gave an affirmative nod, and stepped a bit closer to the brunette, a small, much remembered and cherished, smile on her face. "Careful now, Mione. Those Death Eaters have gotten a little excited about slashing hexes." Hermione looked up in confusion, not understanding what her friend meant by that, and for a moment Tonks' face faded away to a similar one, but also completely different. It was covered in horrid scars, crisscrossing over her cheeks, forehead, and chin, marring her beautiful skin. Hermione gasped, stepping back a pace from the grotesque image, realizing that she was using her powers to hide her old face. Tonks let her eyes fall to the ground, almost in shame. "It's a lot harder now, you remember that." Silent, she stepped around the startled brunette to continue walking the way she was headed.

She turned another corner, and from Hermione's location, she could hear Tonks come upon someone and begin speaking in hushed tones. Like a deer in headlights, the young Granger stood rooted to the spot, eyes in the direction of the voices. The other person was now heading towards her.

Damn it all!

A flash of red hair rounded the corner now, mimicking Tonks' previous actions. Female - it was Ginny.

Her breath caught in her throat at her friend's change of appearances. Ginny was clothed in a black cloak, completely unfastened so that it trailed behind her. She had knee high leather boots on, with flat soles, and a simple black outfit underneath. She was dressed in what was considered the easiest to fight in - easy breathing, easy moving material. Her vivid red hair was long and tied back, her face paler and more weary than ever. But most noticeably to Hermione's gaze, was Ginny's left eye. Instead of her sapphire orb, she now had a murky white globe, all signs of a pupil or color long gone.

"So you've come back, have you?" Ginny spat, almost disgustedly as she stopped a few feet in front of the startled woman. Hermione flinched, not expecting to be so close so quickly. Her eyes automatically flicked to Ginny's right hand, clutching her wand resolutely. Somewhere in a residence of her mind that was not still processing her friend's vision problem, she realized that Ginny and Tonks had come from two separate directions, meeting around the same spot. They had been on a security inspection, of course.

"I suppose you've noticed my eye, now?" Ginny continued after realizing Hermione was not going to speak soon. She stepped even closer to the rigid brunette, fixing her left eye directly in front of Hermione's stare. "Go on and look." Hermione flinched openly at this, hissing air in through her clenched teeth. That eye, the absolute and indefinite blankness of it, seemed to somehow see right through her. Almost as if it could look at her betrayal, like it was some physical specimen living inside of her, writhing and twisting and consuming her mind.

"Gin," Hermione whimpered, hurt atrociously by her friend's callousness, despite her expectations. She wanted to cry out desperately, "Talk to me! Gossip! Giggle! Flip your hair over your shoulder and smile! Love me again!" but all she managed was a strangled sob. How many more horrible things had happened to the people she claimed to love while she traipsed around in the relatively safe Muggle world?

Reaching a tentative and shaking hand to her pale friend's face, Ginny pulled away sharply in response, her one good eye sparking in anger.

"Just because you came back and you're feeling sorry for me, Granger, does not mean that I'm going to forgive you."

Pulling her hand back down and shaking her head, Hermione bit her lip. "I - I don't want you to forgive me." She gave a sudden cold bark of a laugh, Gryffindor courage flooding back into existence. "Christ, that's the last thing I want, Ginny. I know what I deserve, and I want what I deserve. I don't deserve your forgiveness." Yet, she added to herself in silent determination.

"Damn straight," Ginny snapped, irritated at how well Hermione was taking her rejection. But Ginny, despite years of hell, was not naturally an unkind or unresponsive person. She gave a small chuckle, covered in bitterness, as she locked eyes with her old friend. "You know what, Granger?"

Hermione tried to look interested, but most of her attention was praying that Ginny would someday again refer to her less formally.

"There's pretty much one difference between you and me..."

Hermione looked even more interested now, although fearing the answer.

"I feel alone and tired... but..." Here Ginny averted her gaze for a moment, before bringing it back up, her voice merely a whisper. "I can't stop. No matter what, I know that I just can't stop."

Hermione nodded slightly as her stomach settled, the butterflies in it finally dispersing after becoming more comfortable with the rather unwanted confrontations. She was somehow aware that Ginny had not made mention of those feelings to anyone else. "So it seems," she whispered, remembering her similar meeting with Malfoy that day.

Seemingly snapping from her emotional daze, Ginny shook her head and scowled again. "Oh just shut the hell up, Hermione. For the first time in your life you'll never understand. Ever."

Stepping back a bit in response to Ginny's temper, Hermione stumbled into the closet door Sirius was hidden in. Seeing this as a sign of weakness, the redhead silently shook her head in disgust and walked away, boots thumping quietly on the floors.

"Christ..." Hermione whispered, rubbing her temples. This was all too much - and she had only met two of the many people from her past. "I hate this," she moaned, furiously rubbing her eyes to rid them of the tears, knowing full well that she was smearing her makeup.

Anger fueling her shot and frayed nerves, she turned around and swung open the closet door, mumbling a quiet "Let's go," to its occupant, and he once again, obediently followed. Sirius was too confused and unnerved to question any of her actions at the moment - after all, he had heard both rather unpleasant conversations take place, and was unsure about his place in the chaos around him.

Still, he couldn't help but ask, "Did I know them?"

Lost in her train of thought as she walked quickly down the dim hallway, she spoke, "Who?"

"Those women - the two you talked to."

"Yeah, you knew them. One of them is your cousin." Hermione's cold voice had softened at Sirius' innocent question. A pang of grief hit her as she recalled Sirius tumbling backwards into the veil, laughter written clearly upon his gaunt face, to the imminent death that awaited him, by the hand of another cousin. Not dead, Hermione - never dead. And Bellatrix will surely pay, now.

I have a family... Sirius thought, unaware of just how little his blood family actually meant to him.

Opening his mouth to shoot off more queries, Hermione quickly prevented him with, "Later, I promise," and continued her brisk pace to some unknown destination. She stopped abruptly, without warning, causing her partner to crash into her backside. Ignoring the incident, she turned around and whispered, "If anyone comes near us, I want you to keep your face down. Don't look anyone in the eye," she stressed the last sentence, knowing how easily one could detect Black from his gaze. No one had eyes alike in depth and darkness.

"Why?" he asked, slightly heatedly. He was sick of being so secret - he had been unknown about for eight years, and he was bloody sick of it. He had thought tonight to be the end of that, and was beginning to doubt the place that the woman had brought him. Maybe it was just some sort of odd cult, a bunch of loonies running rampant playing with magical toys.

Sighing, Hermione decided that she was being unfair leaving him in the dark after years of being clueless. "I'm taking us to an old... mentor of sorts, to both of us. He'll know what to do. He'll know how to help." Keep that up, Granger, and you'll almost start believing it. "I just can't have anyone see you - they... well, they think you're dead."

Sirius opened his mouth to respond, but a newly revealed cloaked figure had exited out of a room down the hall, and was now closing the door quietly behind her.

Hermione tensed as she recognized her old Head of House, but was too nervous about her teacher's soon to be recognition to remember to remind Sirius to keep discrete. Sirius was also nervous about the confrontation, and too stubbornly curious to see if this woman would remember him, to keep his head down.

Turning away from the room, the professor made her way towards the couple that stood rooted with their feet to the floor. Frowning, McGonagall realized that the people ahead of her looked quite unfamiliar, yet at the same time, tremendously proverbial. Squinting behind her spectacles, her heart jumped at the sight she had focused on. One thought dead in the throes of battle, and one thought lost to the fear of death, stood before her, unscathed and unsure.

She paused, unsure as to how to handle this encounter.

Looking to Hermione for some explanation, she gave a brief account of what she knew so far. "This is, Professor, who you probably believe him to be - Sirius Black." McGonagall's hands clenched and un-clenched at her sides as she released a breath she had been unaware about holding.

As an afterthought, Hermione quickly added, "But he doesn't remember who he is."

Nodding understandingly, the teacher took a shaky breath. Things of this stature happen all the time, Minerva - don't be surprised that more than one of them happen annually in your presence.

"Well then... Let me be the first to welcome the both of you back into the Order. Miss Granger," she nodded to her former pupil, but when her eyes strayed to the other, her gaze became teary as she whispered, "Mr. Black."

It took Sirius a moment to register with him that that was his name, from birth to supposed death, and he nodded apprehensively at the woman Hermione addressed as Professor.

A silent tear slipped down Minerva McGonagall's cheek as she recalled vivid memories of his life and numerous misfortunes. Hoping to God that this man was strong enough still to be re-exposed to his past, she offered him a teary smile. In a small way, she should have known that even the hand of the Reaper himself could not so easily affect Sirius Black. "I always knew you were bloody incredible, Mr. Bla - Sirius."

And it was true, in many ways. Years of mischief and disruption, rebelliousness, anger, and still overcoming it all to become a brave fighter on the side of good. Then, the most horrific betrayal, years of despair and loss, and surviving it still to become a large and satisfying part of his only remaining family's life.

Her statement was meant as not only an apology for years of mistrust - but also as a way of expressing her utmost respect and awe towards him, and more so an apology for ever believing him to be gone.

"I'm sure Professor Dumbledore is expecting you," McGonagall attempted to smile. "He will undoubtedly want some alone time with the two of you before he announces what exactly is going on." She ushered them towards the door she had just exited from after whispering the password to the portrait, which amazed Sirius to no end.

Upon entry, Hermione reprimanded herself for the confusion she felt at first. She had originally expected the room Dumbledore was in to be like his office in the school, full of his own devices and decorations. She then remembered where she was, and that this room was the base of operations for the order. Tables lie covered in maps, red quill marks representing attacks and green ones representing victories over Death Eaters. Some of the dark walls were coated in weaponry, while a few others had long sheets of parchment tacked up.

Hermione's eyes then fell to her one time guide and his blue eyes, dully twinkling in the poor lighting where he stood near a large table. His hands were clasped behind his back as he began to speak, "Miss Granger, Mr. Black. I welcome you both back, after your very different, ah, leaves - "

Always trying to be witty, Hermione mused before raising her hand abruptly. "Before you begin with the welcoming party, Professor, I have a question for you." She didn't wait for a response, nor did she care that Sirius was left completely in the dark as to what was unfolding around him. He could wait.

"Why exactly did you tell me to leave the Order, Professor?"