Rebirth

Chapter 2: Breakdown

Dumbledore arranged for Ron to drive a Ministry car to take them home, promising faithfully that Sirius would return in a few days time to answer the healers' questions about life beyond the veil. He agreed to it, only because he knew he would have no answers that would satisfy their curiosity. He sat in the back with Hermione, staring out of the window as Ron drove them through the countryside.

"Remus lived at Grimmauld Place after you died," said Hermione after a while. "When the Order no longer needed it, Dumbledore let him keep it since he was the closest thing to family you had left. We moved in when we left school and we've been there ever since."

Sirius smiled approvingly, and then thought of Harry. He should have inherited the damn house. Anger welled up inside him again, but he pushed it down. He didn't begrudge Remus having the house. He deserved it more than anyone.

"I'm glad," he said.

"Of course, it's yours now you're back," Ron said from the front of the car, a note of nervousness in his voice.

"I don't want it. I never wanted it," Sirius said determinedly. Hermione smiled at him, warmly.

"Wait until you see it. It's changed rather a lot since the last time you saw it, thanks mostly to Hermione," Ron said, smiling at Sirius in the rear-view mirror. It suddenly occurred to Sirius that Ron and Hermione must be about eighteen now. Nearly grown up, he thought bitterly, again his thoughts drifting to Harry.

"How are you two?" he asked. "Come to think of it, how's everyone?"

"We're fine," answered Hermione. "I work for the Ministry now, in Strategic defence planning. It's a new post -"

"A post they've created for her because they were so desperate to hire her," Ron cut in.

"You do exaggerate, Ron. I basically just work out strategies for the aurors. They do all the hard work," explained Hermione modestly. "Ron's there too. He works for the Werewolf capture unit. He got some extra training from Hagrid and asked for the job when Remus went off the rails. He's stalling the Ministry, delaying their search a little while we try to find him."

"So where do you think he's gone?" asked Sirius, eager to keep the topic of conversation away from Harry for the moment. His heart ached so much that he didn't think he would be able to mention his name without breaking down. At least he could do something about Remus. It wasn't too late. Hermione spoke quickly, silencing Ron with a glare.

"There'll be plenty of time for that tomorrow when you've had a little more sleep," she said firmly. Sirius was instantly rather unpleasantly reminded of Ron's mother, Molly Weasley.

"Don't talk to me like a child, Hermione," he said quietly. Hermione flushed a little, but regained her composure quickly.

"I'm sorry Sirius," she said, smiling gently. "I just don't want you to go Apparating off to find him in the middle of the night. You've been really ill and you need to rest."

"I promise I won't go anywhere," Sirius said, forcing a smile. "Just tell me what you know. I might be able to help."

"Yes, well, we did kind of hope you would be able to give us a bit of insight when you are well enough," she said, glancing into the mirror at Ron. "I mean, you know him better than anyone and - "

"We think he's in Hogsmeade looking for Peter," Ron said, interrupting Hermione with an exasperated shake of his head.

"Ron!" she said, indignantly.

"Oh for heaven's sake, Hermione. He's not going anywhere, he just said so," Ron snapped, obviously annoyed. There was a definite atmosphere between them and Sirius couldn't help wondering whether they were a little more than just friends. Hermione glared at him but stayed silent.

"Thanks Ron," said Sirius defiantly. "Well if Peter is still in Hogsmeade, I would say you're probably right, although I can't see why he would be. Remus might come across as mild-mannered and reasonable, but if there's one thing he is, it's fiercely loyal and he won't rest until Peter gets what's coming to him. I assume you've tried the Shrieking Shack and the caves?"

"First thing we did, mate," said Ron, shaking his head. He gave a nervous glance into his mirror at Hermione who was staring out of the window disapprovingly. "One of them has definitely been to both places, but we haven't managed to catch them at it. The Ministry know about the Shrieking Shack but not the caves, so Moody and Tonks have been staking them out, but since Peter's probably a rat and Remus is pretty clever at hiding himself away, we've had no luck. Sometimes I wish we'd just let you kill him in the first place," he said bitterly. "Then none of this would have happened."

Sirius looked out of the window at the scenery rushing past the window. They were travelling so fast that the countryside was a blur. Harry had once told him that he didn't think his father would want his two best friends to become killers. What had they become now?

"Harry had his reasons," replied Sirius quietly, his voice cracking as he spoke Harry's name. He wished he had killed Peter as well. More than anything he wished that he had killed Peter when he had the chance, and maybe none of this would have happened. Peter's body would have proved his innocence and he could have been there for Harry. Maybe he would still be alive. He dug his fingernails into his leg, willing his composure to hold out until he was alone. The three sat in silence for a moment, each lost in their own thoughts about Harry and of Peter's betrayal. Finally, Hermione spoke.

"A lot of us didn't make it," she said, sadly. "Kingsley Shacklebolt was killed by Death Eaters. So were Ron's dad, Dedalus Diggle and Emmaline Vance. Mundungus Fletcher was killed too, but that was thanks to an angry goblin who he owed money to."

Sirius looked into the front of the car at Ron who was staring fixatedly at the road ahead, his ears a little pink.

"I'm sorry about your dad, Ron," Sirius said softly. "He was a good man."

"Yeah, thanks," said Ron, still staring ahead. They fell into silence again and Sirius was grateful. He didn't want to talk, didn't want to think. All he wanted to do was get to his room and sleep, fall into oblivion until the pain went away.

Hermione fidgeted in her seat. She opened her mouth several times as if trying to decide whether or not she should speak. After a few moments, she brought up the subject that Sirius had been so eager to avoid.

"I'm so sorry about Harry, Sirius," she said softly. Sirius stared out of the window and nodded, hoping that she would take his cue to drop the subject, but she continued, seemingly determined to make him talk about it. She spoke quickly and awkwardly, her voice unnaturally high.

"You'd have been so proud of him. He picked himself up and fought like a hero. He was braver than any of us. He wouldn't let us give up, even when things looked hopeless, and he died to save the world. I spoke to him before he went. I didn't know what he was planning, but he seemed somehow at peace. He knew what he was doing." She paused for a moment and Sirius willed her to stop. Tears were burning the back of his eyes and throat and he fought to suppress them. He knew if he let them flow he would not be able to stop, but he couldn't lose control, not here.

"They've put up a statue of him in Hogsmeade," she went on. "People come from all over to see it. They worship him like a God now." Hermione fell silent again, staring out of the window. Sirius could see her reflection in the glass. There were tears streaming down her cheeks.

"It was too late by the time we got to him. He was only sixteen but he seemed older than any of them," she continued, her body shaking with emotion.

Sirius could take no more. His anguish overwhelmed him. He covered his face with his hands and sobbed, pain and grief engulfing his body.

"I should have been here!" he yelled, punching the seat in front of him with all the force he could muster. "It's my fault, I should have been here!"

"Sirius, don't. There was nothing any of us could do." Hermione placed a calming hand on Sirius, squeezing his shoulder.

"Oh God, Dumbledore, why did you have to bring me back to this? You should have left me there," he sobbed, staring at the ceiling as if expecting Dumbledore to appear.

Hermione reached out to take his hand and pulled him towards her. He clung to her as his sobs tore through his body in great, throbbing waves, and they cried together.

"I'm sorry," she muttered, over and over again. "I'm so sorry."

After a while, Sirius fell into a troubled sleep. When they arrived at Grimmauld Place, Hermione and Ron gently levitated him upstairs and onto a bed. Hermione slept on a chair beside his bed as she had done many times in the last six months.

~

The next morning, Sirius awoke to find sunlight streaming through the window. For a few moments, he lay still, blissfully comfortable but as his mind became conscious his head was suddenly filled with the memories of the previous evening. Harry. And the misery poured back into him with such a weight that he felt as though he was being forced down into the bed itself. He opened his eyes and sat up quickly; he couldn't bear to be alone with his thoughts just yet.

As he looked around the room he realised that he had no idea where he was. He appeared to be in a large bedroom with deep blue walls, wood panelling and polished wooden floors. He was lying on a four-poster bed, scattered with cushions and draped with white, sumptuous curtains. At the end of the room was a large oak wardrobe and a matching desk, both decorated with intricate carvings. Clean robes had been carefully laid on an ottoman at the foot of the bed. Realising he was naked, he dressed hurriedly, reluctant to be caught off guard. Underneath the clothes lay his wand and he grasped it tenderly, at last beginning to feel like himself.

He heard footsteps on the stairs and backed towards the bed. He held out his wand defensively, realising he must be overreacting, but nervous all the same.

The door opened. It was Hermione, carrying a tray full of food and drink. He quickly stowed his wand in his robes, embarrassed to have greeted her in such a way, but she didn't seem to have noticed.

"Morning," she said. "Did you sleep well?"

"Like a log," Sirius replied. "Where the hell are we? I thought we were going to Grimmauld Place."

"Sirius, this is Grimmauld Place. It's just been re-decorated." Sirius looked around in wonderment. It was completely unrecognisable from the dark, creepy place he had left.

"We told you, I changed it all. I spent weeks on it. I didn't want you coming back to such a mess."

"It must have cost you a fortune," Sirius breathed, marvelling at the expensive looking furniture and beautiful furnishings.

"Well, part of it was taken from the money Harry left. There was no one left to leave it to, so Dumbledore suggested we use some of it to make this place decent for you to live in. It seemed appropriate, somehow. Anyway, I'm not exactly short of a Galleon or two." She smiled, bashfully. "I'm considered to be quite important in the Ministry, you know."

Sirius stung at the mention of Harry's name, again struggling to keep his emotion in check.

"So when did you leave Hogwarts?" he asked.

"I graduated this summer. The Ministry offered me a job straight away, but I'd already been half working for them during the war. Without pay, of course." She grinned sheepishly.

"And Ron? I thought he'd been working for the Werewolf Capture Unit." Sirius was confused; it would take him some time to work out the time frame of events since his disappearance.

"His father was killed about two weeks into our sixth year at Hogwarts, not long after you disappeared. Ron just upped and left. He tried to persuade Dumbledore to let him join the Order, but Dumbledore refused. I think he hoped that Ron would go back to school, but he didn't. He worked for Fred and George for a while and then went to the Ministry to ask if he could help find Remus. He joined the Order the day he turned seventeen, but kept his job."

"Come on," she said, suddenly smiling. "Since you're up we might as well eat breakfast downstairs. You can see the rest of the house."

As they walked into the hall, Sirius gasped. Like the bedroom, the hall and stairs were completely unrecognisable. On the landing where his mother's portrait had hung was an enormous stained glass window depicting a large, golden phoenix. The phoenix moved its head gently, throwing patterns of warm, yellow light across the hall.

"How did you get rid of my mother?" Sirius asked, amused. Hermione gave a little frown.

"Moody did it. She was getting so upset at my attempts to decorate the place, screaming insults at me at all the time, and Moody just snapped. He blasted the wall right off and slung the whole thing into the attic. There was no need really. It caused an awful lot of trouble. It took quite a lot of memory charms to convince the neighbouring muggles that it had been a gas explosion. All your old stuff is in the attic with her. I didn't want to get rid of it until I'd got your permission."

"Consider this my official permission to burn the lot of it. It all looks amazing, Hermione." Sirius was quite overwhelmed at the effort she had apparently gone to for him, and it warmed his aching heart. He never thought he'd say it, but maybe this place would be nice to live in after all.

The rest of the house was the same. There was no trace of the darkness that had filled the place before his departure. Every room was warm, inviting and beautifully decorated. Sirius felt at ease as he sat in the large kitchen, filling up on eggs and bacon with Hermione and Ron, who had been busy cooking at the stove.

"You have to stay put for a few days, while you get your strength back," Ron said, mumbling through a mouthful of food. He eyed Sirius nervously, expecting a cool response, but none came. Sirius was used to staying in one place after years in hiding, and desperate as he was to help find Remus, he couldn't deny that he still felt exhausted.

"There's a few people that would like to stop and say hello, though, if you're up to it," Ron continued.

"Of course," Sirius said. It would be good to catch up with his friends, despite the heavy thoughts that clouded his mind. Anything to avoid thinking about Harry.

"Good. My mother and Tonks will be over in an hour or so, and Moody said he might look in as well.

Sirius spent the next half hour asking endless questions about what had happened over the last two years. Buckbeak, his faithful Hippogriff, had returned to Hogwarts and Hagrid after the Ministry had revoked his death sentence. Moody had resumed his retirement three times only to be called back by the Ministry every time something went wrong. Tonks was still an auror and the Weasley twins were apparently travelling the world with the fortune they had made after selling their joke shop.

Lupin had been unemployed and living off payouts from the Ministry for his service during the war. Dumbledore had begged him to return to Hogwarts but he had refused, too unsure of his ability to live safely among the students.

When they had finally finished eating, Sirius stood up and looked at his two companions properly for the first time since he had awoken.

"I can't believe how much you two have grown up," he said, wondering with a shooting pain what Harry would have looked like by now.

"Well we are eighteen," Hermione said, indignantly, her face flushing a little. And they certainly had changed. Sirius stared at them both, trying to come to terms with the amount of time he had been away. Ron was tall and strong, his jaw square like his father's. His red hair sat like a glowing beacon on top of his head.

Hermione had blossomed into a beautiful young woman. The nervous air she had always carried had been replaced by a self-assured confidence. Her once frizzy hair now framed her face with tumbling curls.

"You both look wonderful," Sirius said warmly. "And Hermione, what can I say. This house looks amazing. I love it."

"Do you really?" she blushed slightly, for a moment returning to the awkward little girl that Sirius remembered.

"I helped," Ron piped up, forever seeking approval.

"From what I hear, you've both done great things with yourselves. I'm proud of you both," he said, an affectionate smile spreading across his lips.

Hermione and Sirius made their way up to the sitting room while Ron made some tea.

"Sirius, I really am sorry about Harry," Hermione said seriously as they sat down on the comfortable sofa. Sirius stared around the room, his heart sinking as he realised Hermione was not going to allow him to suppress his feelings. He couldn't bear to think about Harry yet; it was still too raw. She continued, oblivious to his discomfort.

"Harry gave me a few things to keep before he died," she said, handing him a long, thin box that she had brought in from the hall. "I think he would have wanted you to have them."

Sirius opened the box slowly, his heart in his mouth. Inside, carefully wrapped in velvet cloth, were the mirror and penknife that Sirius had given to Harry, the invisibility cloak that James had left for him, and his firebolt broomstick. He felt his hands starting to shake as he clutched the penknife and mirror to his chest. He closed his eyes, desperate not to let the emotion overtake him once again.

"Hedwig's around somewhere too, but I think she's out hunting." She reached over and placed her hand on Sirius's head, stroking his hair soothingly. "Are you OK?" she asked.

Sirius nodded. He knew his voice would betray him if he spoke. He reached for her hand and pulled it gently from his head, squeezing it onto his knee. With all the strength of mind he could muster, he looked her in the eye.

"I'll be alright. It'll just take some time to get used to," he said with a forced smile.

At that moment, he heard the doorbell ring. He cringed for a moment, almost expecting his mother to start shrieking in the hallway again, but instead he heard the unmistakeable tones of Molly Weasley accompanied, he presumed, by Tonks.

They quickly made their entrance accompanied by a levitating tray of tea and cake.

"Mom sent over some cake," Ron said, grinning sheepishly. "She said you'd need feeding up." Sirius smiled.

"Good to see some things don't change," he said. "How are you Molly?"

Molly Weasley greeted him with a warm hug.

"I'm fine, just fine," she said. She looked a little older and seemed to have lost a little of her sparkle since the last time he had seen her.

"So sorry to hear about Arthur," Sirius said solemnly. "It must have been a hard time for you all." Molly smiled sadly.

"He died doing what he wanted to do," she said firmly, and Sirius understood that the topic of conversation should go no further.

He noticed Tonks standing bashfully in the doorway.

"Nymphadora," he said playfully, knowing how much she hated her first name. She grinned at him. "It's so good to see you."

She stood for a moment and then rushed towards him, diving into his arms with enough force to knock him backwards onto the sofa.

"Oh Sirius, I can't believe you're really here!" she said tearfully, squeezing him so hard he thought he might suffocate.

For the rest of the morning, they chatted about life after Voldemort, filling Sirius in on various things that had happened since his disappearance. To his relief, they were all quite careful not to mention Harry's name.

As the evening drew near, Molly and Tonks said their goodbyes, Molly promising to return with various items of food to help Sirius build up strength, and Tonks slipping Sirius a bottle of Ogden's Old Firewhisky with a wink and a finger pressed to her lips.

Sirius had enjoyed their visit, but he was glad they were leaving as he was starting to feel tired. He hated having so little energy when he was so eager to do something. He was desperately worried about Remus and was sure he would be able to find him, make him see reason and come home. Besides, it would give him something to do other than sitting around and wallowing in misery over Harry's death.

After they had left, Ron went out to stock up on some food before the shops closed and Sirius stayed behind with Hermione, but not without a fight. He had begged them to let him go along, but in the end his fatigue had won and he agreed to remain in the house.

Hermione had work to do since she had taken the day off so Sirius roamed the empty house, desperate to find something to keep him occupied. He went into what had been the study, and found it still full of books, but not the Dark Arts books that had filled the shelves before. In their place were novels, reference books and spell books, all presumably approved by Hermione. He smiled as he remembered her as a child, always quoting from something she had read in the library. It seemed as though that hadn't changed too much.

He browsed through them, flicking through the occasional one that caught his eye. After a while, he found one he recognised with a jolt in the pit of his stomach. It was the photo album that Hagrid had made for Harry after his first year at Hogwarts. He remembered sitting with Harry that summer he had spent at Grimmauld Place, telling Harry who all the people in the pictures were. He saw one of Harry's parents on their wedding day, himself as their best man. He smiled at the memory. It had been such a happy day. Another one was of Harry as a baby in the arms of his parents. He had taken that photograph himself. They had just come back from a day trip to the beach and he and Remus had made a sandcastle for Harry while his parents had a quiet half hour on the sea front. As fast as they could build it up, Harry would screw up his eyes and the whole thing would explode over them, much to Harry's delight. His magical powers were strong even as a baby.

He flicked over the pages until he came to a few pictures he didn't recognise that must have been added to the album after his disappearance. He smiled as he saw a very grown up Harry smiling and waving to him with some of the others. Another showed them all dressed in black at what seemed to be Arthur's funeral. He took in every detail of each picture, desperate to gain some insight into Harry's life. At the very back of the album, one picture in particular caught his eye. It was at Grimmauld place as it had been, and Harry was standing with Ron and Hermione. Behind them was a banner of lights spelling "Happy Birthday Harry". The lights gave a little burst and changed to read "17 Today". He smiled, pleased that Harry had at least had one birthday with his friends, even if he hadn't been there himself. He stared at the picture for a while, as Ron and Hermione waved gleefully at him. Harry just smiled at the camera, looking a little sombre and decidedly gaunt. Sirius realised the war must have been raging by this time. It was little wonder that Harry didn't look in the mood to celebrate. He racked his brains, trying to figure out what must have happened by this point.

Suddenly, he remembered something Hermione had said in the car. He was only sixteen but he was more of an adult than any of them. That was odd. It didn't seem like the kind of thing Hermione would be mistaken about, but clearly she had been. He made a mental note to ask her about it later, and put the album away.