*Rated M for explicit sexual content towards the end of the chapter- read at your own discretion!

̶̶̶̶ ̶«̶ ̶̶̶ ̶ ̶ ̶̶̶ ̶«̶ ̶̶̶ ・☽ ༓ ☾・  ̶»̶ ̶̶̶ ̶ ̶ ̶̶̶ ̶»̶ ̶̶̶ ̶ ̶  ̶̶̶̶

-- POTTER MANOR

Sirius woke the next morning to find the spot beside him on the bed empty and cold. He groaned, sitting up on the edge of the bed with a great heave. Looking down, his fingers ghosted over his ribs where he'd been hit with a hex the night before- though curse would be a better word for it. Nothing was remaining- no pain, no scar, no trace.

"You're up," a relieved voice filtered through his thoughts.

He looked up, an automatic smile climbing his face. Hermione stood at the door, fully dressed. Knowing her, she'd likely been up for a while now.

"How are you feeling?" She asked in concern, walking over to him, her eyes hovering over his unblemished torso.

Sirius wrapped his long fingers around her wrist, smoothly pulling her onto his lap, savoring the warmth of her entire back molded to his front. He tucked chin on to her shoulder peacefully. "Better than I have in ages," he admitted. The completion of their bond had not only healed his injuries, but they'd also reenergized him in ways he hadn't even realized he needed. His old wounds no longer ached, and his mind felt blissfully at peace.

"Do you feel it too?" Hermione asked quietly, relaxing back against him without a fight.

He knew instantly what she was talking about. Since the moment they'd completed the bond, he'd felt his normal state of existence heighten sharply- his magic was more active and more easily at his disposal than ever before, like it could burst through his fingertips at the slightest command. He could also feel Hermione as a distant but comforting extension to himself, awareness of her life and breath bringing him a visceral relief.

"Hmm..." He nodded, his arms tightening around her waist.

"It's like a warm blanket in the winter," she whispered softly, her fingertips dancing over his hands. "Or a cool breeze in the summer."

That immediate sense of comfort and relief that made you lower your guard.

"It feels like home," Sirius told her.

He could feel Hermione tense in his arms before she all but melted into his embrace.

"I didn't think I'd find a home here," Hermione admitted quietly. "I didn't think it'd be possible."

"You have more of a home than I ever did," he told her. His disheartening words prompted her to look back at him curiously.

"What do you mean?" Hermione's eyebrows furrowed in worry.

"I haven't had homes as much as I've had shelters in my life," Sirius sighed. "Grimmauld was never home- it was my own personal hell. Hogwarts was a sanctuary if anything- but still a school. Even my flat now is more a functional place for me to sleep and exist than a home, or at least it was before it was set alight."

"But your friends," Hermione turned in his embrace, touching one hand to his cheek as her heart went out to him. "Your friends are your family."

"They are," Sirius smiled, his affection for his friends unmistakable. "The year I lived with the Potters was the only time I would say I had a home. But when James's parents died, he eventually married and moved in with Lily. It just left me on my own, you know?"

Hermione brushed her thumb across his lip in contemplation before she voiced the thought she might've been too afraid to even a few weeks ago. "I'll be your home," she offered quietly. "If you'll be mine."

Hermione could feel the ripple pass through his body as he gathered her close, his hands resting comfortably on her waist and thigh. The warmth of his bare torso seeped through her cashmere sweater. She was captivated by his iridescent grey gaze watching her with every emotion swimming under the stormy control he practiced.

"That's all I've ever wanted," he whispered against her cheek, his forehead brushing against her temple as he savored her touch. "A home."

They sat like that for a many blissfully peaceful minutes, stroking and brushing against each other like two cats.

"I should go tell the other Aurors I'm still alive," he groaned despite burrowing his head even deeper into her neck.

"Remus already went back to tell them last night," she assured him, carding her fingers through his impossibly thick and silky hair. "After he saw the bond healed you."

Sirius finally pulled back, his eyes clouding over in heavy contemplation. "I still wish you hadn't taken such a risk," he told her firmly. "You had no idea of knowing whether it could kill you."

"It wouldn't have," she insisted. "With Harry's magic on top of my own, I knew I had enough energy to overcome whatever sacrifice it would've taken to heal you."

"That's not the point- I do not doubt your magic," Sirius growled in frustration. "The Coniunctus Ritual is about magical balance. If we weren't balanced enough, it would've killed you."

"I knew we were balanced," Hermione insisted again. "You already survived your end of the bonding, and you healed me with the bond when I was on the brink of death and still recovered. You'd already proven your magic could handle sustaining both yourself and me. If I wasn't enough of a match before, Harry's added magic definitely made sure I could sustain you the same way if we completed the bond."

"But so many people have died in the past from trying to complete it," Sirius argued in confusion.

"LIkely because they were ill-matched and were simply trying to get the magical benefits," Hermione waved off. "I doubt most of them thought about the sacrifice it takes to willingly share your magic to sustain someone else like that. That was what killed them. Magical balance is very intuned with your own personal intention. If the ritual is meant to strengthen two people in their collective survival and devotion to each other, I doubt power-hungry people would be able to complete it successfully."

Sirius huffed. "You really have thought of everything, haven't you?"

"Get used to it," Hermione laughed. "It's a hazard from watching over your godson for half my life."

"Your godson, too," he pointed out.

Hermione paused with a small smile. "That he is. They might be the same person, but for some reason, the Harry I remember is just distinctly different from baby Harry."

Sirius squeezed her hand comfortingly. He would never completely understand, but he could imagine how difficult it must be for her to reconcile her past with this past- two mutually exclusive timelines that would never again cross paths.

"Let's go down to the kitchens to get some food," Sirius chirped. "Can you apparate us? It's so far."

He'd already turned to pull on a shirt and would've missed the way Hermione winced. But through their innate connection, he could feel the internal wince as surely as if he'd seen it.

"What is it?" He asked her immediately.

"Nothing," she recovered quickly. "But honestly, how lazy are you? It'll be good for you to stretch your legs."

"It's literally in the furthest corner of this manor from here," Sirius rolled his eyes.

He couldn't shake the sensation of discomfort lodged in his chest. It was a subtle tightening that made it hard for him to draw his next breath.

"Hermione, what's wrong?" He stood in front of her, drawing her chin up to inspect her.

"Nothing."

"You forget we're literally connected now," he reminded her dryly. "You'll have to do a lot better than that if you're going to lie to me."

She sighed deeply, looking up at him sheepishly. "It's just... I can't really apparate us anywhere right now, even if I wanted to."

"Why not?"

"You probably don't remember, I mean, you were barely conscious at the time, after all," she rambled.

"Hermione." He warned.

"I broke my wand." She blurted out. "The bond was a last resort because I knew you didn't want me to do it. I tried healing you first, but when I used Harry's magic in addition to mine, my wand just splintered under the pressure."

Sirius's eyes widened in surprise. Could wands even do that?

"I'll go replace it later," Hermione continued on. "But for now, I can only do basic wandless magic, nothing too intricate."

Sirius finally pulled his words together, his eyes setting in determination. "You're not spending another minute wandless."

"But-"

"We're going right now," Sirius insisted. "It's not safe for you to be without a wand. You're muggleborn, so I assume your first wand was from Ollivander's?"

Hermione nodded, amused, and slightly pleased by the initiative he took. She hadn't wanted to bother him about it, and she'd assumed she'd eventually go later.

"There might be a chance we can still get you your original wand if he's made it by now," he winked.

She brightened at the prospect, taking his hand eagerly when he'd finally dressed and picked up his own wand. Being without her wand made her feel terribly exposed- it wasn't a feeling she enjoyed.

̶̶̶̶ ̶«̶ ̶̶̶ ̶ ̶ ̶̶̶ ̶«̶ ̶̶̶ ・☽ ༓ ☾・  ̶»̶ ̶̶̶ ̶ ̶ ̶̶̶ ̶»̶ ̶̶̶ ̶ ̶  ̶̶̶̶

-- OLLIVANDER'S WAND SHOP

"What was your previous wand, Miss Dumbledore?" Ollivander asked her curiously when she'd told him she required a replacement for her broken one.

"Vinewood with Dragon Heartstring."

The old wizard's eyes widened in brief surprise before he turned, heading into his stacks. "Lucky for you, young lady," he called as he assessed numerous boxes. She had absolutely no clue how he managed to keep track of each individual wand in the piles of boxes. He reemerged, victoriously opening a relatively clean, non-dusty case. "I recently finished a wand with those specifications just last month."

He plucked the beautifully ornate wooden stick from its velvet case, holding it out for her. Hermione gasped slightly as she viewed her wand- the exact same one she'd gotten from him when she was eleven years old. She wrapped her fingers around it reverently, expecting the typical sensation of calm and safety to wash over her. Yet, the wand in her hand stayed hopelessly inanimate, the coldness of the wood making her mouth feel like ash.

"Well, give it a wave," Ollivander prompted her.

Snapping out of her reverie, Hermione pointed her wand up. "Lumos."

Everyone in the shop grimaced as a blinding light flashed through the room violently before she yelled out, "NOX."

"No, no, definitely not," Ollivander rebuked sternly.

Hermione felt her heart plummet. But this was her wand, how could it possibly not be for her. It chose her when she was but a little girl.

"Perhaps something with more flexibility," Ollivander murmured, neatly plucking her childhood relic from her hands. "Your magic is far too strong for this one, it won't hold up."

He paused, turning to her with contemplative eyes. "I wonder..." he murmured, abruptly turning and heading back into the stacks.

She could feel an overwhelming sense of hopelessness steal her thoughts before a warm hand snaked around her waist to rest on her stomach, pulling her out of the drowning sensation. Sirius tugged her back against his chest, anchoring her.

"Are you alright?"

"I don't understand," Hermione responded with a squeak. "That was my wand, why didn't it respond to me?"

"Love, you got that wand when you were a little girl- when you'd just discovered magic. It had the chance to grow with you as you bloomed into your potential," he reminded her. "A lot has changed. Your wand didn't splinter for no reason, perhaps you need a different one."

She realized the logic in everything Sirius was telling her, and yet the words brought no comfort. Ollivander emerged from the back of the shop with a much older box, offering it to her carefully. She opened the lid curiously, her heart stuttering to a stop as she saw the wand inside.

Harry's wand.

"Go on," Ollivander prompted.

With careful fingers, she scooped the wand out of its velvet lining. Before she could even try a spell, she felt Harry's magic gushing forward in recognition of his old wand. A powerful gust of wind swirled through the room, the lights flickering in response.

"Curious..." Ollivander murmured.

"T-this can't possibly be my wand," Hermione insisted, trying to hand it back to him.

The old wizard merely studied her in amusement. "The wand chooses the wizard, Miss Dumbledore. And this one has in no uncertain terms chosen you."

When Hermione felt the panic swell, Sirius's hand tightened around her hip.

"It is curious, though," Ollivander pondered aloud again.

"What's curious?" Hermione asked absently.

"The core of that wand is a phoenix feather," he told her. "It is curious because the phoenix that gave that feather is none other than your uncle's familiar."

"Fawkes?" Hermione asked in surprise.

"You're familiar with him," Ollivander smiled. "I suppose some things are truly just destined. I'm awed that the feather gave its loyalty to you."

Hermione remained stumped, staring at the wand in her hand in shock. Sirius thanked Ollivander, buying her time to process. He proceeded to pay for the wand before he led them out of the shop, his hand an everpresent stabilizer along her lower back. She barely realized as he led them to a nearby bench, guiding her to sit.

"What's wrong?"

Hermione looked up to see Sirius on one knee in front of her, peering up at her in concern.

"This is Harry's wand," she managed to choke out.

Sirius's eyes widened at the revelation. "Well, it makes sense," he told her calmly.

"Sense?" Hermione cried. "In what world does this make sense?"

"You have part of Harry's magic in you," he reminded her gently. "The Harry who grew up without parents or me or magic. The same Harry who this wand originally chose. Besides, I think your new wand should have a phoenix core. After all, you've risen from the ashes of your past world into this new life. It's quite symbolic."

Hermione remained quiet as one part of Sirius's words rammed into her with the force of a Hippogriff. She had Harry's magic! But she still knew something the others had no idea of. Harry's wand had a twin- a different wand that had gone to Voldemort himself.

Destiny, indeed.

It couldn't be a coincidence that this wand had chosen her when Harry's magic was in her. The connection between Harry and Voldemort had always concerned her deeply, especially after their wands connected during their escape from Privet Drive during the seventh year.

"If you're worried you're taking baby Harry's future wand, then don't." Sirius's voice beckoned her back to the present like an echoing voice at the end of a tunnel. "Harry now is going to grow up very differently than the Harry you knew. The same wand likely wouldn't have chosen him anyway."

"You're right," she whispered, finally meeting his eyes. It wouldn't choose him because baby Harry was not connected to Voldemort as originally destined. Instead, it had chosen her.

 ̶«̶ ̶̶̶ ̶ ̶ ̶̶̶ ̶«̶ ̶̶̶ ̶ ・☽ ༓ ☾・  ̶»̶ ̶̶̶ ̶ ̶ ̶̶̶ ̶»̶ ̶̶̶ ̶ ̶  ̶̶̶̶

-- POTTER MANOR

Hermione was grateful for the respite when Sirius had to meet with Moody and the Prewetts regarding the ambush in his flat. It gave her the needed silence to pick apart everything she knew to try and piece together the consequences of this connection.

Nothing was a coincidence.

She knew for a fact her Harry and Voldemort were connected in some way. Harry could see into Voldemort's mind. He could speak parseltongue. Their wands shared the same core and chose the two of them regardless of the near half-century age difference.

She recalled everything they'd been instructed to do by Dumbledore. Destroy the seven Horcruxes. They did that, hadn't they? Only there were only five Horcruxes. The diary, the ring, the locket, the cup, and the diadem. In her time, they would've also needed to kill Nagini, but Voldemort hadn't even turned her into a Horcrux yet. Yet, that left one piece of the puzzle missing. Was there a seventh Horcrux he managed to make before Nagini? What could it possibly be?

The fog lifted from her mind as the realization plummeted into her.

Harry's connection to Voldemort. Their wands connecting. Their prophesized link that followed Harry years after the murder of his parents.

Harry was a Horcrux. A living, breathing Horcrux.

Everything of their seven years together finally made sense. Harry's ability to speak to snakes. His mood swings in the fifth year- his inexplicable anger. It all fit. Even Dumbledore's cryptic message on Harry's first-ever snitch made sense.

I open at the close.

It was all a loop. History was doomed to repeat for the boy who couldn't catch a break. He was meant to die in order to make Voldemort mortal. Except now she was the last remanent of her Harry- the one who still carried that link to the Dark Lord. Baby Harry was untouched by the dark fate, as was Neville, who'd been miraculously absent when his entire family was targeted.

So she had to die? But merely dying wouldn't kill a Horcrux, they already knew that. She'd have to either perish in Fiendfyre or drink Basilisk venom. Neither seemed like humane options, but she knew which one of those two fates she'd prefer.

"Hermione?"

Her head snapped up to the intruding voice. Sirius leaned in the doorway to her room as he watched her with a small smile.

"Dinner's ready," he told her, offering her a hand to pull her off the bed.

Sirius. How could she forget? They were bonded now.

He led her down the stairs, his thumb running circles along the back of her hand in familiarity. They sat through dinner with the Potters and the kids, and all the while, Hermione was still lost in her own thoughts.

She had to finish Voldemort. She'd promised Harry! It was his dying wish.

Sirius would be an issue- after all, she didn't want him to die as well. But from what she could remember of the text on this particular blood bond, a completed bond was not a forced sharing of life force. While it had been warped to be used as a marriage vow when done one-sidedly, in the older times, it was a pact between fellow warriors and duelists. It was a pact to share life forces to help heal each other by will. It was a means to build a collective strength between two partners. Not to mention, when casting in tandem, a bonded pair could produce unparalleled powerful magic.

The aura of the entire room was rather dense, with Sirius filling James in on how they were handling the attack. In the tense discussion, no one seemed to find Hermione's uncharacteristic silence odd.

But with that space, watching the people she'd come to care for so dearly, she knew what she'd have to do. She'd fight the final battle. With her and Sirius fighting together, they'd have much better chances against the superior scale of Death Eaters. But after- once she was sure everything was settled, she'd have to take care of this one dooming loophole of time. She'd need enough time to master their bond- to learn how to block Sirius's life force when she's about to kill Voldemort's final Horcrux. It was hypothetically possible since she now had much more authority over the use of a completed bond. But it would take practice. There was no room for error. Perhaps she could find a way to acquire Basilisk venom within that time. She'd much prefer that to a painful death by Fiendfyre or trying to go meet her fate at the hands of the real-life Basilisk asleep within Hogwarts.

"You okay?" Sirius asked her with soft concern.

Lost in her thoughts, Hermione had barely noticed that they'd arrived all the way back at her room. Her body had run on auto-pilot the entire time.

She stared at Sirius blankly, her voice heavy in her throat as she found herself unable to speak. She had to die. There was no other way. All the Horcruxes had to die. The cautiously hopeful future she'd begun to imagine for herself with the wizard standing before her was burning to ash in front of her eyes. The cruel destiny of time travel finally caught up with her. She'd wondered why she was the only one to survive from her timeline. Now she knew.

She wasn't meant to survive.

She'd merely had a little longer before her clock stopped ticking.

"I just wanted to walk you back to your room," Sirius rushed out reassuringly. "I'm staying at Potter Manor for the time being since my flat is... ya know. But I can always go find another guest room- it's not like I expect-"

Hermione's hands clenched around Sirius's shirt as she jerked him forward, her lips clashing with his desperately. She poured her heart and soul out into it. Into him. She nipped, stroked, and caressed, trying to commit him to memory.

Sirius stumbled in surprise when Hermione drew her against him with a force he hadn't anticipated. Her mouth was frantic on his, her arms trying to pull him closer and closer. He teetered forward as she pulled his head down, inadvertently pushing her back against the closed door of her bedroom with a soft thud. It didn't take him long to respond, his hands twisting into her hair as he returned her kiss with just as much fervor.

But it didn't take long before something new intruded upon the edges of his consciousness. It felt overwhelming and made him want to sob. It felt like grief. But it certainly wasn't his.

"Hermione," he mumbled, tearing his lips away from hers.

It didn't deter her. Hermione's hot mouth followed a trail down his neck, her hands already making quick work of the buttons on his shirt.

"Hermione," he repeated more sternly, catching her smaller hands in one of his own.

She buried her head in his collar, drawing a deep groan from Sirius as she bit down on the tendon along the side of his neck.

"Hermione," he hissed, jerking her back with a sharp tug on her hair.

She gasped as she was forced to meet his stormy eyes.

"What in Merlin's name is going on?"

"I just want you," she stammered, trying to free her hands.

Sirius's eyes darkened in displeasure as he forced her back against the wood of the door, purposely this time. "STOP trying to lie to me. Did you forget I can feel you?"

Hermione's eyes flew between his wildly. He could feel the general gist of her emotions, which right now was essentially a typhoon of fear, despair, and anxiety. She couldn't brush it aside as she'd intended. She'd need a more believable excuse.

"I'm scared," she admitted honestly. "Terrified."

"Of what?" He probed, his hand still twisted in her hair unrelentingly, forcing her to keep his gaze.

"You almost died yesterday," she whispered. It wasn't a complete lie. She was terrified about what had almost happened. "I was so close to losing you- to losing the future I finally dared to dream about.

Sirius's penetrating gaze finally softened, as did the sharp grip he had on her hair. "I'm sorry, I didn't think the debrief over dinner would have you so shaken," he apologized sincerely.

"Just let me feel you," she begged, her eyes fluttering closed. "Let me be with you."

Sirius stared at her hungrily before swooping down to take her lips soulfully. Hualing her into his arms, he lifted her straight off the floor. He kicked the door open to walk her over to the bed, laying her at the center before moving atop her. But where he tried to keep his kisses sincere and loving, Hermione's touches were urgent and desperate. Where he tried to soften his touches, hers dug into him, urging him on.

Sirius had consciously pushed aside his roguish tendencies when he decided to get serious about Hermione, knowing she deserved for him to win her affections honorably. But by Godric, he was no saint. Hermione's hand disappeared into his trousers after divesting him of his belt, squeezing him without preamble. Sirius's breath stuttered as his hips jerked into her grip. The witch was driving him crazy- as if she were prancing through every last thread of tautly held control he had and snipping them loose one by one. He didn't know if she was truly prepared for what she'd unleash.

"Let go," Hermione growled against his jaw. "I don't need patience right now. I want you as you are- with everything you have."

"I don't think you know what you're asking, love," Sirius hissed warningly as she tightened her fingers around him with a sharp tug.

"I need to feel you alive."

Her words snapped the last remaining thread, and Sirius growled low in his throat. If she was begging to have him as he was, by gods, he would show her what she was in for. His hand encircled her wrist tightly, prompting her to release him. He dragged both arms over her head, holding them down with his own as he leaned over her.

"I told you to be careful about what you wished for, love," he purred in her ear before nipping down her neck.

Hermione strained up against him, seeking as much contact as possible. Gathering her wrists up in one hand, he swiftly whipped her sweater off. He released her briefly to drag her pants off. When she attempted to sit up and reach for him, he pushed her down instantly with a palm against her stomach.

"Sirius," she protested, the breath knocked out of her.

"No," he bit out firmly. "You wanted to feel me," he nosed his way up the plane of her stomach, pausing between the valley of her breasts. "Now, you get to feel how completely my feelings for you overwhelm me on a daily fucking basis." She gasped, arching up when his mouth enclosed one breast. The heat of his tongue making her shiver seconds before he rolled the soft flesh between his teeth, drawing a sharp whimper from her.

His hands were everywhere all at once-- twisting into her hair as he tugged her head back to expose her neck to his feasting lips, traveling along her inner thigh as he pushed his way between them, and finally sliding up her arms as he pulled them up over her head.

He rose up over her, his face but a breath away from hers. Instead of kissing her like he usually would, turbulent eyes watched her as he thrust into her with one fell push. Hermione's mouth opened in a sharp inhale as her eyes went unfocused. He didn't say anything but set a punishing pace for them both. And she was helpless to tear her gaze away, held captive by the intensity his eyes bore into her, pinning her in place as much as his body did. Pounding away with long, deep strokes, he soon felt Hermione begin to flutter and pulse around him, relishing in the ever-quickening gasps and whimpers escaping her. Her arms strained against his unyielding hold as she felt herself climbing a peak frighteningly fast. Truth be told, the knowledge he could do that to her only spurred Sirius on.

Her body tensed suddenly under his as she abruptly strained against him. "Sirius!" she cried out with a tearful plea as her eyes screwed shut at the waves of pleasure that rolling through her so roughly she could scarcely breathe. He slowed down ever so slightly, guiding her down from her high with slow, deep thrusts. When she drew in deep, intentional breaths, Sirius pulled out of her without warning. Her eyes flew open as he grabbed her hips, smoothly flipping her on to her stomach.

"Oh gods," she moaned into the pillows as he jerked her hips up, sliding back into her relentlessly.

She was barely off her last orgasm, the lingering throb of the strong waves still pulsing through her. She thought Sirius would simply continue until he finished, but he kept going on and on. His fingers dug into her hips as he surged against her in sharp, controlled thrusts. Before she even realized what was sneaking up on her, Hermione was screaming out into the large room as she convulsed around him once again.

Sirius's strong arms snaked around her as he pulled her torso up until her back was flush against his chest. This time, he didn't slow down for her. He quickened his pace, his movements growing erratic as her moans spilled forth incoherently. One of his hands slipped down her stomach and lower still, his fingers moving deftly over her clit with increasing pressure. His other hand crawled up her chest and came to rest on her throat as he buried his head at her nape. He worked her higher and higher still until Hermione thought she would start crying from the pure overload of it.

"I can't," she pleaded. "Not again."

"You can, and you will," Sirius growled in an inarguable tone, biting down on her shoulder. He laved his tongue over the mark, softening his voice to a low timbre. "Come on, love. One last time. Come with me."

His voice rumbling through her ear, coupled with the sensations of his hands splayed over her body possessively as he rode her relentlessly, finally pushed her over the edge. She was coming for the third time with a weak cry, her entire body shaking in his hold as he plunged into her one last time, groaning into her hair as he came.

Finally, losing the last of his strength, he lowered them both to the bed, laying over her boneless form as he tried to catch his breath. He stayed within her for the next few minutes, feeling her continue to pulse sporadically around him as she breathed shakily.

"Shit, Hermione," he groaned, dropping a kiss to her bare shoulder as he eased away gently.

He heard a soft hiss through her teeth, and he gathered her up in his arms, pulling her back against his chest. His hand rested over her abdomen as she hummed once in quiet satisfaction, and he could still feel the muscles under his fingertips quivering ever so slightly.

When he finally felt her breathing steady and deepen, he pressed a kiss to the nape of her neck. "I love you more than you could ever imagine," he whispered.

Hermione stayed still, knowing he assumed she was already asleep. When Sirius finally drifted into a slumber, Hermione felt her incredibly full heart shatter.

She loved him too.

Yet, she would have to break the promise she'd made him just the night before. Because he would have to lose her. She had to die. For the greater good. Always for the bloody greater good.

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A/N:

T-3 chapters remaining 🤗
Who's as excited as I am? Also idk about you guys, but I'm low key sweating after writing that last scene lol.

Finally, I'd like to ask you all a favor. Please go read my other story, Hiraeth. If you like the Marauders, the Prewett twins, and Death Eater character complexities, I promise it will not disappoint. It's shaping up to be a real masterpiece slow burn like PTTP- starts light and fun, but gets really heavy. It will follow all the critical canon plotlines of JKR's Potter timeline, so don't get intimidated thinking it'll be too AU.