Unofficial Portkey Archive

Hi. I know I haven't posted. Been busy with lots of overtime at work and remodeling my house. Anyway no time to chat-gotta go to work. I had this chapter done, then completely redid it because it wasn't where I want it to go. I skipped over a lot of stuff and did it all in flashbacks, but I'm changing that-still skipping, just not as much. Anyway, please review! New chapter will be out soon-I promise! I'll respond to reviews later. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: Nothing is mine. End is a reference to Friends' episode where Chandler kisses Joey's girlfriend, saying he crossed the line, and was so far passed the line that the line was a dot to him.

CHAPTER EIGHT: The Line is a Dot

Bellatrix Lestrange.

In Hermione's head, Bellatrix was the key. They had to somehow trick the woman into giving them insight to Voldemort's plans. Hermione ran every scenario into her head-deals, intimidation, trickery, coercion, and even torture. No, the truth could not be tortured out of the woman. She would never give Voldemort up for anything-that is why she had to be the one to know.

Deception was the only option, and Hermione had not the slightest clue on how to swindle such a woman out of giving details on Voldemort. In her head, when she painted a picture of the vile woman, Hermione figured she would be guarded and suspicious of anyone and everyone. The task would not be easy, if not impossible.

Hermione had not shared this with Harry, of course. She was waiting until she had a solid plan before she told him she had hijacked his mind, spied on him in the middle of the night, and coerced him into leaving her alone for the sole purpose of going through his things. Even in her head, she knew a lot of trust was breached with her actions. No, she would keep it to herself until it outweighed the drastic measures she had undertaken.

Hermione considered contacting Dumbledore with her problem, but decided to wait. She had a small window of opportunity after Harry left for camp, and that was when she would take that action if necessary. Hopefully, by then, she would have more to go on.

For the moment, however, she was buckling down. The last few days had flown by-time always sped up when she needed it to slow down. She had a little over a week before they left Cliffinshire, which meant she had to work fast.

Her solo mission to Clarence's library had been lucky. Sirius and James had come over to help test Harry's training the backyard. Hermione took this opportunity to beg off for a trip to Clarence's library. Harry had not liked the idea of her leaving, but Hermione told him he was going to have to get over not being able to hover over her shoulder every second of the day. Besides, it was her plan to help out at the library in a few weeks anyhow. Also, they were running out of material to study. They had gone to the library a few times over the last few weeks to get more books, and it was time for another trip.

Hermione talked with her mentor for several minutes before going off on her own. She scanned the familiar shelves, enjoying the comforting smell of dusty books and aged pages. Hermione stopped here and there to pick up several books on defensive training. Once she had enough volumes to keep up the façade for her visit, Hermione pressed further into the library, searching for her true reason for coming to this place. She wasn't trying to necessarily hide the books she was after from Harry-she only did not want to arouse any suspicion. She doubted bringing back books on Voldemort would raise any questions, but still, she was cautious.

Clarence did not have an abundant volume of books on Voldemort, but her collection was enough to satisfy Hermione's curiosity-for now.

Hermione ran a finger over the spines of the leather-bound books on the shelves before her. She grabbed a few titles that looked promising and added them to her growing pile in her bag.

"A bit away from defensive spells, dear, don't you think?" Clarence's voice behind her caused Hermione to jump guiltily.

She managed to shrug. "Curiosity. Better to know what I can about the enemy, yeah?" Hermione asked before snorting with dark humor, "Not like he left a book of memoirs to be passed from generation to generation."

Despite the bleakness of the allusion Hermione had given to being in relation to Voldemort, Clarence cracked the smallest of smiles anyway. "Nice to see you don't let your past-or family's past-define you."

Hermione shrugged again, feeling awkward. "Since when have I let anything define me?"

Clarence tilted her head to the side. "I think…I think you let Harry define you." She spoke softly, catching Hermione off guard.

Hermione paused in her browsing. "I don't understand what you mean." She responded quietly, honestly confused but still slightly apprehensive.

Clarence let out a sigh. "Perhaps that didn't come out right, but it was the only way to bring it up. Seeing you with him over these last few times you've come here for more material…you're different. You have this...this protective demeanor-this constant awareness of his presence. And vise versa. I see it in the way the two of you are when you're around each other. There is certainly no denying that there is something between the two of you." She said with a small laugh. "I feel like the pair of you have this own little world you live in that no one is allowed to be a part of, and I haven't even been around you very much. The chemistry…it's deep-passionate. I think you stepped out of his sight for just a few minutes, and he had this intensely fierce look in his eyes while searching for you…it was a little scary." Clarence admitted softly.

Hermione knew her observations were true, and did not doubt Harry's reaction to not knowing where she was. He was a rather intense bloke sometimes. "Is that a problem?" She asked, trying to keep the spite from her voice. Did she think Hermione was too young to be in love? Perhaps they hadn't been together long enough to feel this deeply for each other? Hermione felt anger bubble beneath the surface at the very idea of someone doubting her feelings for Harry. "If you are trying to convince me we're rushing-" Hermione began in a somewhat heated voice, but was quickly cut off.

"I'm not suggesting that at all, Hermione. I don't doubt the devotion the two of you have. It's obvious. I thought I was clear on that before." She said with a laugh, easing Hermione's tension a bit. "I'm simply observing that that sort of devotion can be dangerous."

Anger flared up again. "As in we should cool off because our feelings might get us in trouble?!" She shot back angrily, the heavy book in her hand slamming loudly on the table beside her.

Clarence gave her a stern glare at her treatment of her books. "Will you please stop jumping to conclusions? I never said anything in the slightest." The older woman spoke with a hint of severity in her tired voice.

Hermione felt guilty at her behavior and slipped into the chair beside her. "I'm sorry; I just don't understand where you are going with this." She replied defensively.

Clarence slid in the seat facing her and reached out to take Hermione's hand in her own. The older woman's hands were smaller than Hermione's, with her skin slightly waxy and wrinkling. Her hand felt fragile in Hermione's, but she knew how powerful the woman before her was. "As I was saying, this type of devotion can be dangerous. I fear…I fear the measures the two of you will undertake to keep the other safe, Hermione. Just…just remember to look at the big picture, look…make sure you consider all the options-the pair of you-before you make big decisions. After the actions from the two of you at the Quidditch match…it makes me nervous, Hermione." She confessed, dropping Hermione's hand and giving her a stern look of disapproval, but underneath Hermione could sense the woman's apprehension.

Hermione let her words sink in, understanding the warning lacing her words. Finally, she nodded.

"The war in not on our doorstep. Harry rushing off to Auror training…the way the two of you have been training these last few weeks. Yes, take Voldemort seriously. I encourage you to. Just don't…don't take this war on yourselves. Do you know what I mean? The Dark Lord, he isn't hiding behind you, waiting to make his move. We have time, and we need to rebuild just like he does. Train-hone new skills. Be cautious. Stay safe. But don't be rash, Hermione. Harry going off to battle the Death Eaters himself. You jumping on Bellatrix's back. That isn't strategy, Hermione, that's stupidity. It's madness. Being reckless can get you killed, darling." She spoke quietly, uttering the endearment for Hermione barely above a whisper, but Hermione could feel the love Clarence held for her in that single word.

Once again, Hermione nodded in understanding. Clarence was worried because of how easily the two of them could put their own lives at risk for each other. Yes, there might be a time when they needed to put their life on the line-there was no guarantee for anyone to make it out of this mess. Clarence was simply telling her that right now was not the time.

Hermione wondered if she would have a different view if she told Clarence of Harry's nightmares. Would that make her feel as if the war was more urgent? She considered confiding the secrets in the woman before her. Clarence would know the solution-she always did. She opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out.

"Yes, Hermione?" Clarence asked, coaxing for Hermione to continue.

"It's about Harry…"

"What about him?" The woman pried slowly.

Hermione's mouth went dry as her words took the first turn she could think of. "You said he was rushing off to Auror training. Do you think it's unwise for him to do that?"

Clarence studied her silently for a few beats over her squared spectacles, and Hermione was sure she knew that was not what Hermione had originally wanted to say. Finally, she replied evenly, "No, I don't think it's a mistake for him to go into Auror training. All I was trying to point out was that everything happened quickly, decisions have been made quickly-some good, some bad. I feel that Harry's immediate immersion into Auror training right out of Hogwarts was a hasty decision that, while a good one, shows…shows just how much he is taking this war on himself, relying on himself to save and spare pain for everyone, especially you. He needs to know that we have time, and he is not alone in this." She told her, folding her arms in front of her.

Hermione bit her lip as the truth of her words swam in her head. When they had first found out about, well, everything in Dumbledore's office-the prophecy, Voldemort's inevitable return, just how connected everything was-Harry had shied away from taking responsibility. Both of them had. They thought they had time.

Then Avery proved them wrong. His attack had changed Harry's attitude completely. In Harry's mind, Voldemort was suddenly knocking at the door, and Harry would be the one the answer the call, shielding Hermione and his loved ones from view. He became instantly anxious over Hermione's safety. He threw himself into training at the first opportunity despite their vacation. At the Quidditch match, he would not stand aside. He went out to meet those who he was sure wanted to kill him. Making it out alive because Voldemort wanted it so, Harry's training intensified. In his world, he is alone, he is the lone savior because he didn't trust the job to anyone else.

And now, Clarence was telling her without saying so that she needed to make sure he didn't do anything rash. "I'll keep an eye on him." Hermione agreed, realizing that despite the difference of opinion she and Clarence had on how urgent the war was at the moment, the woman's insight on Harry was true.

Clarence raised an eyebrow. "I'm not just talking about him." She said with a scoff.

Hermione gave her a half-grin. "I'll keep an eye on myself too."

The corner's of Clarence's eyes crinkled slightly as she smiled back. Clarence reached into her robes and pulled out a small book and slipped it into the bag with the rest of the books Hermione had taken. "Something I thought would be helpful-I've bookmarked a few pages that might interest you." She said, sitting back in her chair.

"Thanks. I appreciate it." Hermione looked down at her watch. "I should probably get going. I'll see you when I come back from Greece?" She asked lightly.

"Of course. Have a good time. I'm excited for you to join me here-it will be like old times." The woman spoke fondly.

Hermione's kept her smile in place, not letting it falter. How could she tell her mentor that now, after everything that had happened, coming back here and wasting away behind the shelves of books seemed useless?

***

Work it harder

Make it better

Do it faster

Make us stronger

More than ever

Hour after

Our work

Is never over

"Harder, Better, Faster, Stronger" DAFT PUNK

***

Sweating, bruised, sore, and tired-a dirty Harry pushed himself off the ground, ignoring the large gash on his arm as he added `bloodied' to the list.

"Harry, take a break. Don't push yourself too hard. Small steps." Sirius called, looking over at James for help.

"Come on, son-let's take five." James immediately added, looking at the state of his son.

"No." Harry replied, crudely healing his arm to stop the bleeding and readying himself for another attack. Blood on his hand from holding the gash smeared all over the handle on his wand, causing it to slip in his hand. He cleaned it and his hand off on his t-shirt before returning to his stance. "Again!" He called, and before they could argue, Harry took off at a dead sprint for the obstacle course the three of them had made for Harry's training for the day, something similar to what he would be facing at camp. They had tried to make him take a break over the last hour, but Harry was having none of it. Even when they threatened to walk away, Harry had told them to go ahead, but he was still practicing.

Time before testing at camp was evaporating quickly. He had asked the two of them to come here every day this week to help him train, push him to his limits. Sirius promised he would be here every day, and his father would make it every chance he could. It was important to them that he succeeded as well, he knew. They needed to know Harry could take care of himself.

Harry made quick work of climbing a wall, straining his muscles while trying to dodge curses being thrown at him. A Stinging hex hit in on his calf, causing him to cry out and almost lose his footing. Growling, he pushed on with shaking arms. He dodged, rolled, spun, jumped, and threw his own curses at his moving targets while battling the challenging terrain of the obstacle course. Once he made it through, before they could call for a break, he yelled, "Again!"

Several wounds and shouting matches later with Sirius about pacing himself, he collapsed at his father's feet.

Sirius reached down and grabbed him by his shirt, roughly pulling him to his feet. "Again. Keep going. You want to be stupid about this, so keep going!" He said angrily, firing another Stinging hex that caused Harry to shout out in frustration.

"What the hell, Sirius!?" He asked, enraged, but Sirius didn't care. His Godfather pushed him forcefully away, sending another curse to encourage Harry to pick up speed.

Fatigued, Harry went again. Then again. Battered and bloodied, Sirius didn't care. He kept pushing Harry. His curses turned harsher, faster, and more accurate. Harry felt his muscles ache and scream in protest as Harry pushed himself-not out of arrogance now but out of sheer self-preservation against Sirius's curses. "I get it, I need a break!" Harry yelled in a strangled voice, but was met with a burning sensation catching him in the stomach, causing him to curse loudly.

Out of pure exhaustion, Harry fell several feet from a small deck and crashed to the ground, considerably falling short of his jump. "Aaaahhhhhhh!" He screamed in pain, his entire leg buckling from under him. Even lying as a heap on the ground, he felt a Stinging hex his in squarely between his shoulder blades, forcing another cry of pain from his lips.

"Sirius, enough!" He heard his father say sternly from somewhere behind him, but he felt a hot pain shoot up his leg from another curse from Sirius's wand, taking no heed to James's command.

"No, Prongs. This is what he wants. He wants to be stupid, so we'll be stupid." The voices grew closer.

Another hex. Another sharp pain. Another cry out from Harry, who laid there like a wounded and broken animal in the muddy yard.

Sirius and his father hovered over him now, peering down at the injured Harry. "Harry, are you alright?" James asked, falling to his knees beside his son.

Another Stinging hex.

"Sirius, goddamn it, I said for you to fucking stop!" James roared to the man standing beside him. "He's hurt!"

"Oh, now you want a break, Potter? Is this enough for you, or are you wanting to kill yourself first?" Sirius yelled down at him, raining several curses down around him causing mud to shoot up and splatter all three of them. Harry could feel the heat of the hexes dangerously close to him.

Finally, Sirius dropped to his knees, tossed his wand to the side and grabbed the front of Harry's battered shirt, pulling his closer. "Have you had enough, now?" He repeated, one hand reaching around to grip his hair painfully to force his Godson to look up at him.

In his green eyes, Sirius saw confusion, anger, hurt, shame-so many emotions stared up at him. He released his Godson from his tight grip, grabbed his best mate by his arm and pulled him away from his own flesh and blood as rain began to fall. James tried to pull away, but Sirius's grip was too strong, and his anger outweighed James, but only slightly.

"Sirius-will you stop!?" He heard his father's voice above him somewhere.

"Let him figure it out-that's what he wants. He's fine." Sirius spoke angrily.

Harry was left alone as the rain went from a steady drizzle to pouring. His body ached and his ankle was surely sprained or twisted or something. His energy was gone. His ego wounded. His spirit broken. He knew what Sirius's lesson was-Harry was taking on too much at one time. He needed to pace himself before he got hurt. Arrogant and determined, Harry had told him several times to stuff and keep going.

And keep going he went.

Angry tears mixed with the rain as Harry attempted to move, but found he had nothing left. He was drained. His wand was out of reach. Defeated, he let his head loll to the side to keep the rain from going up his nose and kept his eyes closed. He would take a break.

***

Hermione deposited her books in the bedroom before walking around the house and ended up in the kitchen where James and Sirius were lounging. She immediately felt tension in the air as she noticed both men were silent and drinking a beer.

"Where's Harry?" She asked, feeling slightly apprehensive.

"Outside." Sirius grunted.

"Go to him, Hermione." James offhandedly added. "Make sure he's okay."

Hermione noticed Harry's father give Sirius an icy glare. "Why wouldn't he be okay?" Hermione asked, but didn't wait for an answer as she quickly exited out onto the patio. The backyard had been transformed into a crude obstacle course of sorts, effectively shielded from Muggle view. Squinting in the heavy rain, Hermione searched for her boyfriend. "Harry!" She called, scanning the yard. Finally, she saw him lying in a heap in the mud. She quickly rushed over to him. "Harry!" She shrieked, dropping to her knees immediately and bringing his head to her lap. "What's wrong!?" Confusion clouded her mind. Why in Merlin's name was he out in alone in the rain with the pair of them in the kitchen?

Harry looked up at her and moved slightly put his head higher in her lap. "Hey babe." He said in a tired voice, closing his eyes as he tried to muster up a small smile.

"What are you doing out here?!" She asked, looking back at the house where James was standing in the window, watching them.

"Taking a break." He said with a sarcastic laugh.

Hermione took in his appearance. "You look like a mess."

"I am a mess." Harry replied before letting out a soft groan as he tried to move his ankle.

"Are you hurt?" Hermione asked, noticing his discomfort.

"No, babe, I'm fine. I'm…being humbled at the moment." He said with another sardonic chuckle.

Still confused, but feeling like Harry might be responsible for his own predicament, she sighed. "What did you do?"

"Can you grab me my wand?" Harry asked, changing the subject. Hermione looked around for a second before summoning it with her own. Harry's wand flew into her outstretched hand, slippery from being covered in mud.

"Thank, beautiful." Harry said, forcing himself into a sitting position. His ankle was swollen and pain still shot along his foot and leg. Clenching his teeth, he pulled his shoe off to get a better look.

"Here, let me." Hermione said, letting go of him now that he was steady as she slid down to his ankle. Using a Healing Charm, she slowly mended his injury.

Harry laughed. "I'm getting a sense of déjà vu here…" He joked, referring to their switched roles so many months ago.

Hermione smiled at him despite her worry. She gently pressed against his leg with her hand, testing the pain. "How does that feel?"

Harry leaned back down into the mud, a smile on his face. "Brilliant." He stretched his leg out experimentally, feeling the pain gone. His body ached, and he was still incredibly tired, but he had gained some of his strength back and the pain from the hexes was wearing off for the most part. His anger made him want to go inside and yank Sirius out here by the scruff of neck, and challenge him.

Hermione sat beside him, the ever dutiful girlfriend. "Want to tell me what happened?"

Harry shrugged. "I kept pushing them, pretty well begged for this really. Sirius got pissed that I wouldn't take a break, wouldn't slow down. So…he hexed the fuck out of me. Think it pissed my dad off, but I guess he understood. I slipped and fell-fucked up my ankle. Too exhausted and hurting to do much about it. Decided to leave me be to teach me a lesson, I suppose." He said, his tone icy. He was torn. He understood why Sirius did what he did. He understood why his father went along with it reluctantly. Understanding did not, however, cloud his anger. Anger, that he found, was mostly directed at himself for failing.

"Yeah, it seemed pretty tense in there. Your dad told me to come out here and check on you." Hermione said, lacing her hand in his. "I'm sorry this happened, but maybe you should have listened." She said unhelpfully.

"Don't be. My fault. I need to get up. I need to go again." He made to get up, but Hermione's hands came up to his chest to keep him pinned on the ground.

"You're taking a break. Let yourself recuperate for a minute, Harry." She said, her tangling her hand with his on his stomach.

"I've been taking a break." Harry argued, lifting himself to his elbows.

"Well then take another one. With me. Please?" She asked, her eyes boring down into his.

After several silent seconds, Harry eased back into the mud, rain still pouring on his face. "Fine." He said, letting out an angry puff of air.

Hermione was unfazed by his anger at her making him wait a few more minutes. "Do you want to go inside?" She asked.

"Nope." Harry replied. Right now, he realized, he could definitely use a cigarette. However, he doubted Hermione would comply with his wishes. Instead, he pulled her down to lay beside him in the mud, cold rain causing them both to shake slightly. He closed his eyes, knowing this was better than anything really, just lying right here in the cold rain with her at his side. His desire for a cigarette vanished instantly.

"I love you." Hermione whispered in his ear, trying to burrow herself deeper into him. "We should go inside. Catching a cold isn't going to do either us any good." She tried to pull away and to her feet, but Harry wouldn't let her get up. Pulling him so he was facing her, she took his muddy face in her hands. "I'm serious, Potter. We're going to get sick! It's too cold for this. Just call it a day already!" She urged.

Harry looked into her eyes, listened to her pleading with a small smile. She worried too much. He lifted a hand to trace the curve of her cheek, down her neck, from her shoulder to her elbow before his small smile widened. "I can tell you're cold." He smirked, he fingers tugging the zipper on her down just a tad more before his tracing continued around her hardened nipples from the cold rain.

Hermione yanked her zipper back up, slightly embarrassed. "Well, it's cold! So let's go inside!"

Harry shook his head and pulled her roughly against him. "Nah. You want me to take a break, I'll take a break. Right here. Snogging you." He said, feeling desire leak through his anger as he seized this small distraction. A few minutes for him to retreat before continuing on with his battle. Without another word, he lips found hers while one hand threaded through her hair and the other gripped her upper thigh possessively.

While things heated up in the cold rain, staying warm was no longer an issue. However, after several minutes, they were interrupted by a voice somewhere behind them.

"Looks like you found your second wind." James said, causing the two to spring apart.

Harry looked up at his dad and Godfather standing a few feet away, eyebrows raised. Hermione quickly jumped to her feet while Harry first stretched out on the ground then got to his own feet. Good as new for the most part, he grinned. "Yeah, something like that." He looked past his father to Sirius, his anger still very much there.

"Do we have a problem?" Sirius asked, arms folded across his chest.

Sizing each other up, Harry replied coolly, "Nope. Let's do this." He gave Hermione a quick peck on the cheek, then headed for the edge of the course to start.

Not wanting to watch, Hermione quickly rushed inside. The rain had slowed, but still came down steadily. Once inside, she quickly took a hot shower to get all the mud from her hair and body. She cleaned up the mess from coming inside all muddy, then started dinner for the four of them plus Ron and Draco. Hermione placed the food in the oven so it would be ready once they decided to come in before finally retiring to Harry's bedroom to go through her books. She picked the most promising one, and stretched out on the bed to begin.

The book had been informative, even though she wasn't sure what she was looking for. It spoke of Voldemort's reign. His alliances with the giants, werewolves, vampires-all the monsters of the night that no one wanted to believe existed had been an asset. Dementors-a horror she hoped to never encounter-had also been on the Dark Lord's side. Reading about this world described in her book was like a nightmare. It told the worst of stories with the most evil villain imaginable. Death. Destruction. A fight for power. Too much bloodshed. Too much killing. While the contents made her stomach turn, she found that she couldn't look away, couldn't stop reading. It wasn't until Harry opened the door some three hours later that she finally paused in her research.

Covered from head to toe in mud, sweat, and blood in a pair of athletic shorts, he gave her a small grin, but Hermione could see that even that took effort due to his exhaustion. "I'm going to get in the shower real quick. Dinner smells delicious-thank you. You coming out?" He asked, grabbing some fresh clothes. His movements were slow and Hermione could see his body was definitely aching.

She wanted to say something-anything to make him feel better, but there wasn't anything to say. Guilt slipped into her stomach at how hard he was working in comparison to her uselessness. "Yeah, I'll just be a second." Hermione replied, looking down at her book.

"Okay." He said before exiting the room.

Hermione looked around her, noticing that at some point in her reading, it had gotten dark outside. Trying to ignore her feelings of worthlessness, she finished the last two pages of the chapter, closing in on how large Voldemort's followers had grown over time.

Hermione followed the loud noises that led her to the kitchen. Ron, Draco, and James were taking about Quidditch while Lily was finishing getting dinner ready. Harry was still in the shower, and Sirius was nowhere to be found.

"Hi." She greeted everyone. "Can I help you with anything, Mrs. Potter?" Hermione asked the older woman politely.

"You can track down Sirius and let him know dinner is ready. Harry should be out any minute. I think he's in the garage." She answered, pulling plates from the cupboard.

Hermione nodded, "Of course."

The door leading into the garage was closed, so Hermione knocked on it lightly before slowly pushing it open. Sirius was sitting on a small stool in front of his bike, a rag in one hand and some sort of polish in the other.

"Er…Mrs. Potter wanted me to tell you dinner is ready." Hermione said awkwardly. It was very out of character for Sirius secluding himself from the group-he was normally the center of attention. Hermione knew that whatever happened today, Sirius was affected by it.

"Thanks, Hermione. I'll be right in." Sirius replied, his voice unenthused.

Hermione turned to leave, but found herself turning back around. "Are you alright?" She asked, taking a few steps closer to her old professor.

"Just brilliant. Why do you ask?" He asked, raising an eyebrow at her concern.

Hermione shrugged. "I heard about earlier…" She trialed off uncomfortably.

Sirius shrugged, but did not respond.

"He isn't angry with you. He…he blames himself." Hermione blurted out, wanting to ease Sirius's guilt.

Her words caused him to pause in his movements of polishing the chrome on his bike. "I only did what he asked." He said, his voice cold.

Hermione continued more into the garage, "He knows that. And…and I think it was a good idea. I think…I think he's taking on too much all at once. Maybe you could talk some sense into him?" Hermione suggested.

Sirius gave a short laugh. "And what makes you think he's going to listen to me?" He looked up and saw that Hermione was now almost hovering over him.

"Because he loves you-respects you. I think…I think if anyone can get through to him…it's you, Sirius. I have no doubt in my mind that it has to be you because that's the sort of bond the pair of you have. You are the one he goes to when he needs advice or help with anything. He sees you as an authority figure, but also as a close friend, and he loves you more than you know." Hermione whispered, knowing her words were true. There was no doubting Harry's feelings for the man before her.

Sirius gave her a half-smile. "I'll see what I can do." He stood and put his rag and polish away before walking with Hermione to the door. "I think you're forgetting who he is going to listen to even more than me, Hermione."

Hermione looked over at him quizzically.

Sirius grinned. "That's you. He's a fool for you, woman, a fool like I've never seen before. I think it's worse than James and Lils to be honest."

Hermione felt pink tinge her cheeks. "Maybe."

Dinner was a comfortable affair. Everyone was scattered around in the living room, extra furniture and tables conjured up because of the limited seating. Most of the tension from earlier in the day was gone. Harry steered clear of one-on-one conversation with his Godfather. His anger towards the man was gone, but Harry knew Sirius was going to want to have a talk with him at some point, and he wasn't thrilled about the idea. Sirius wasn't one to sweep anything under the rug-he liked to keep everything out in the open. That was one of the many things Harry loved about him so much. If Sirius was angry, he would simply let you know. Subtlety never was his strong suit.

Sirius did not disappoint. As the evening drew to a close, Sirius cornered him in the kitchen. "We'll talk tomorrow, yeah?" He asked with a meaningful look. "I imagine you're tired right now."

Harry looked down at the ground for a second before shrugging. "Yeah. Tomorrow."

Sirius clapped him on the shoulder, squeezing for a just second before nodding and bidding his Godson good-bye. His mother and father followed suit soon after.

Harry surveyed the living room, where Ron and Draco were monopolizing the couch and recliner, both lounging comfortably with Xbox controllers in their hands. "Want in on this mate?" Ron asked, gesturing to the game.

Harry shook his head. "I'm beat. Think I'm going to go to bed. I'll see you two tomorrow." He said, giving them a small wave before walking into the kitchen, where Hermione was finishing putting the dishes away.

He stood there for a few minutes, silent, just watching her with her back to him. She turned around and jumped when she saw him in the doorway, dropping the plate in her hand. It landed with a loud crash, but surprisingly did not break.

"You scared me. Could have alerted me that you were there, you know." She said, picking the plate up and rewashing it.

Harry shrugged. "Could have. Or you could just be more observant of your surroundings." He chided playfully.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Or you could stop being such a stalker, or shall I start calling you Edward?" She teased, sticking her tongue out at him.

Harry laughed. "I bet you'd like that, wouldn't you?" He said, closing the distance between them and pulling her into a hug. "Want me to be your dreamy vampire lover?" He joked, raking his teeth against her neck, causing her to shiver in his arms.

"Maybe." She challenged with a smirk.

Harry raised his eyebrows. "Didn't know you were into the sort of thing, Miss Granger." He taunted.

"Oh yes, the undead, the icy skin, the blood sucking…I'm all over." Hermione replied with a roll of her eyes.

With a gleam in his eyes, Harry teeth bit playfully on Hermione's earlobe. "Well, speaking of sucking…" He trailed off suggestively.

"Don't finish that with something that is bound to get you slapped, Potter." Hermione warned.

Harry drew back and raised his hands up in surrender. "Okay, okay. I give up."

"That's what I thought." Hermione spoke with a satisfied smirk.

"But really…I'm going to bed before I fall asleep standing here. With my luck, I'll hit the counter, end up with a concussion, die, and Voldemort will never get his chance to kill me himself. Wouldn't want to rob him of that pleasure, now would we?" Harry joked morbidly.

Irritation flared up in Hermione at his nonchalance. "That's not funny, Potter."

Harry nodded, though his expression showed he clearly disagreed. "Of course it isn't. Coming to bed?" He asked, stretching and attempting to stifle a yawn.

"Yeah."

"Is it okay if I turn on the television, or will that bother you?" Hermione asked as they crawled into bed.

Harry shook his head and handed her the remote. "I'll be out in no time, it's fine."

True to his words, once the lights were out and Hermione's hands began to gently rub slow, soothing circles on his back, Harry was asleep before the beginning credits of Hermione's movie were over.

She, however, would not be going to sleep. Not until she had a plan. An idea. Anything.

Bellatrix.

Bellatrix would know. How much would she know? Enough? Bellatrix could find out. She was the one most trusted.

She needed to manipulate Bellatrix into asking the right questions, then relaying her findings to Hermione.

Without Bellatrix knowing what she was doing.

Without her realizing who Hermione was.

Hermione eased out of bed and went to pick up her bag with her books in it. She brought that along with her book from earlier over to the small leather sofa in Harry's bedroom, where she sat down and turned on the lamp. She spread her books out so she could see them all, looking for the most helpful title. She reached down and picked up the small book Clarence had added to her bag entitled Charms of a Witch. Confused, she leafed through it vaguely. Inside were different helpful charms for witches, if she were correct in her assessment. Charms and potions for easy do-it-yourself household chores, correcting blemishes and quick-fixes for hair problems. Potions for menstrual cramps. She paused once she reached a page bookmarked by Clarence.

A contraceptive potion.

Just in case was written neatly on the bookmark in Clarence's hand.

Hermione stared at the pages for a few more seconds, contemplating the meaning. She closed the book the tossed it to the side. Sex wasn't something she had time to think about right now.

Hermione continued to browse through her books until she found one that looked promising. It briefly discussed known followers of Voldemort and crimes they were charged with. She noticed Bellatrix's rap sheet was as lengthy as it was disturbing. One incident that stuck out was the torture of Frank and Alice Longbottom. Hermione knew them to be Neville's parents, and she was familiar with their situation due to a discreet conversation she had had with Harry one time. He had found out from his mother, who worked at St. Mungo's, where the Longbottoms resided in one of their permanent wards after being tortured by the Cruciatus Curse by Bellatrix along with a few others until they had lost their minds. Their condition had forced Neville to grow up with his stern grandmother.

Reading about the frightening woman made her task appear even more impossible. The witch would never spill a word. She had a better chance of asking Voldemort himself to share his plans with her. And of course, Voldemort would just as well kill her-something she was sure was on his list to hurt Harry before he tried to kill him.

Her mind was a spider web, and all these thoughts were caught in the stickiness of it. Unmoving, the notions just hung there innocently, trapped in her mind connected by tiny silk as she went from one thought to the next. Slowly, the ideas came to life as all the pieces-once trapped in place by the stickiness of her mind's web-seemed to grow spidery legs and gradually migrated to the center of the web. Combining, changing, creating. New ideas-completely mad ideas burst forth. Mental. Ideas that would never work. Ideas that were completely dangerous. Ideas that not only required a Plan B, but a Plan C, D, and possibly alternative death wish as well. Plans that would force oaths taken to be broken in a very big way. Lies to compound upon more deceit. There wasn't time. There wasn't enough planning. No one would be on board. There was no time to even do it.

But even as each obstacle presented itself, Hermione's mind-completely reeling-overcame it as her thoughts rushed ahead of her ten steps. She quickly stood and rushed from the room and into the bathroom. She ducked her head down and drank from the tap. She was shaking. She then splashed the cool water on her suddenly very heated face.

Toweling her face dry, she looked at her reflection in the mirror. She was pale and red at the same time. She could see the heat on her face. She put a hand on each side of the vanity to steady herself.

Don't be rash, Hermione. Harry going off to battle the Death Eaters himself. You jumping on Bellatrix's back. That isn't strategy, Hermione, that's stupidity. It's madness. Being reckless can get you killed.

Clarence's words floated around in her head, resounding in her brain.

Rash? Definitely

Mad? Doesn't even begin to cover it.

Reckless? In the words of Joey Tribbiani, this was so far passed the line to where recklessness ended that the line would be a dot to her.

PLEASE REVIEW! Next chapter should be HUGE! No time for much lyrical inspiration-want to get this out before work!

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