Disclaimer: Harry Potter and characters belong to JK Rowling, who takes even longer than I do to put out parts of her stories;) But she's worth waiting for.
Author's Notes: Sorry if this chapter is a bit short. I hope to have more soon, since the story is progressing along nicely, thanks to everyone's support!!
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An Organ of Fire
by Kristen Elizabeth
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In Magical Britain, there weren't too many places where a wounded Animagus might have been taken to recover. Truthfully, the only place Harry could think to begin his search for Sirius was the Gryffindor Infirmary, located on the outskirts of London. He remembered that Seamus Finnegan had been taken there only a few days before the start of their sixth year at Hogwarts, when he mixed dragon's tears and wormwood at the Apothecary in Diagon Alley and had nearly spent the rest of his life with two noses.
Harry apparated into the Infirmary and approached the rather bored-looking witch at the front desk. "Excuse me...I need some information on a patient who might have been brought in here within the past few days."
The receptionist snapped her gum and flipped a page of her *Witch Weekly*. "Name?"
"Um...Black. Sirius Black."
If the nurse recognized the infamous name, she didn't react to it. "What would he have been brought in for?" She turned another page; she had yet to even look at Harry.
"I'm not exactly sure." Harry pulled his robes tighter around himself. "He might not have been in human form."
"Animagus?"
"Yes. A dog. A big, black one. It's imperative that I..."
The nurse sighed, still bored. "There's been no registered Animagi brought in here for at least four months, Mr..." She trailed off.
"Potter," Harry filled in. Suddenly, the nurse's eyes lifted to give him an interested look. "And thanks for all your help."
Back on the street, Harry cursed to himself. Snow had sprung up, dusting London a fluffy white color. "Sirius..." If no one had rescued Sirius in either human or dog form, then the only logical conclusion was that Malfoy had gotten to him first and was holding him somewhere.
Or had already killed him.
The last thought stabbed Harry through the heart. Losing Sirius would be like losing his parents again, only he would be able to remember it clearly. It was something he could not let happen.
He found himself walking back into London and had gone a good six miles before he realized what he was doing. It was well past midnight; only a few Muggle cars sped past him, sending an occasional spray of melted snow up to cover his woolen robes. He ignored them. All he wanted was to get back to Diagon Alley, rent a room at the Leaky Cauldron and sleep. In the morning, he would continue the search for his godfather.
Arriving back at his starting point, Harry approached the Leaky Cauldron's barkeep. "Tell me you have a room, please."
The man smiled. "Already been set up fer ya, Mr. Potter. I didn' hardly recognize yer, yer've grown up so much." He handed Harry a large, rusted key from under the counter. "Second on the left."
Harry nodded. "Thank you."
"Oh, Mr. Potter!" Harry glanced back at the barkeep; the older man winked. "Have a good night, sir. A very good night."
"Thank you. Again." More than a little puzzled, Harry started up the twisted staircase. With a sigh, he unlocked the room and let himself inside, looking forward to a feather mattress and at least eight hours of sleep. Sleep that he could only hope wouldn't be haunted with images of his godfather.
"Lumio." The softly spoken spell and the sudden presence of light caught Harry completely off guard. His hand dug into his robes for his wand, but before he could pull it out, he relaxed...but not by much.
Sitting upright in the bed, between the warm covers, was Hermione, dressed, if one could even call it that, in nothing but a thin-strapped mint-green satin nightgown. "It's about time," she said, indignantly. "I thought you might never show up."
Harry put a hand to his forehead. "Hermione? What are you...why are you...how did you get..." He swallowed. "Why can't I finish a sentence?!"
"I left Harry with Hagrid for the evening and Apparated out of Hogsmeade. I needed to talk to you," Hermione explained. She slid out of the bed and approached him.
"Wearing that?" he squeaked.
Hermione gave him a look. "You've seen me in less."
Coughing, Harry managed to recover some of his lost senses. All he had to do to stay on track was avoid looking at anything below her neck. "You promised me you'd stay at Hogwarts."
"I know I did." She put her hands on her hips. "Then I really thought about it and I suddenly realized I was being shafted."
"Shafted?" he repeated.
"Shafted. You were asking me to stay at home where things were safe because...I don't know. I'm just a girl, maybe. Or because you're stuck on some ancient idea of the happy homemaker and the alpha male who goes out and fights the wild boar for dinner!"
"Actually..." Harry folded his arms over his cloak. "I was trying to protect you."
"Exactly!" Hermione pointed a finger at him with angry accusation. "Harry, never once, in the myriad of dangerous adventures we had as children, did you *ever* exclude me like you have been since Halloween night. And I'm sick of it! You might think you can do this all by yourself and keep me safe in the process, but you're only making me feel useless."
Harry's arms slowly unfolded. "Hermione...I didn't realize. I never meant to exclude you. I just wanted..." He shook his head. "I wanted to make sure that you were never hurt like that again."
"You can't keep me in a glass jar, Harry." Her furious expression relaxed. "I'm as much a part of this as you are."
After a long minute, Harry nodded. "You're right. I haven't been exactly forthcoming with you. But then...you haven't been entirely honest with me either."
"What do you mean?"
"Never mind for now," Harry said. "You've had your reasons. You were trying to protect me, too."
Hermione looked down at her bare feet. "I suppose a mother's instincts die hard."
"Not a mother. Not for me." Harry reached out and pulled her towards his body. He smiled when Hermione wrapped her arms around his torso and laid the side of her head on his upper chest. Suddenly, the rest of his night came flooding back to him. "'Mione...if you're in this with me, you have to know. Sirius has disappeared."
She pulled back, worry taking a deep seed in her eyes. "He didn't meet you here?"
Harry shook his head. "I have some vague leads, but there isn't much to be done until morning." He paused; the next news would be the hardest to get out. "I lied to you. We weren't planning to investigate Knockturn Alley. We were hoping to find something on...Draco Malfoy."
"Draco? What does he have to do with all of..." Hermione stopped suddenly. "Harry..."
"It was hard for me to fathom at first, too. It seems like whenever there's a problem, I want to immediately point the finger of blame at Voldemort. But he really is gone. And the only source of everything now is his self-titled successor. Malfoy."
Hermione touched her suddenly pale cheek. "Ron?"
"He killed him," Harry said as gently as possible.
"Ron's death was an accident," Hermione whispered. The words were rote, memorized over the long months. A mantra that had created a false sense of security in her life.
Harry reached for her hand. "No. And you know it. Don't you think it's time everyone else did, too?"
Tears filled Hermione's wide eyes. "In front of everyone....the scaffolding just fell. I saw him later...after they had pulled Ron's body out of the rubble." She closed her eyes, letting the tears spill. "He was smiling...and there was nothing I could do about it."
"And now he has my godfather." Harry spoke between clenched teeth as he pulled her back into a strong embrace. "It's time to end all of this. We are going to find Sirius and then find the evidence to put Malfoy away in Azkaban until he withers up and dies."
"If we don't?" Her question was muffled through the wool of Harry's robes.
Harry's eyes glinted like twin emeralds. "He wants to be the next Dark Lord? That's just fine. I'll send him to the same place I sent Voldemort."
Hermione shivered. "I get frightened when you talk like that, Harry."
"I'm sorry." He blinked out of the moment and dropped a soft kiss onto the top of her head. "Hopefully it won't come to that." Harry yawned suddenly; his exhaustion had been forgotten when he found her in his bed, but had now crept back upon him.
She slipped out of his arms and took his hand. "The man downstairs was surprisingly *not* surprised when I took this room for us. Maybe he thinks I'm just a lucky Potter-groupie..."
"I'm the lucky one," Harry said as she walked them back towards the bed. "I finally get to spend the whole night with you."
"Yes..." Hermione nuzzled the underside of his jaw before lifting her chin to give him a slow, deep kiss. "We can spend the whole, long night together....sleeping. Because you need your rest." She pulled back abruptly and rushed to climb back into bed. "You're not a cover-hog, are you?" Hermione asked, snuggling into her pillow, her back facing the empty side. Without waiting for an answer, she closed her eyes.
Frustrated, Harry untied his robes and pulled at the rest of his clothes until they were gone. He slid into bed next to her; an attempt to roll her over to face him was unsuccessful. Sighing, he ran his fingers through his messy bangs several times. "Goodnight, Hermione." Settling into his own pillow, he called out, "Nox," undoing her spell.
In the dark, when he reached for her again, she put up no more resistance. Sleep was placed on an indefinite hold as they sought the comfort of each other's bodies. Not the fumblings of their youth, nor the quick, quiet explosion at Christmas, it was passion and tenderness, sweet and tart, lightning and sunshine. And fortunately, almost endless.
The next morning, Harry woke up with her warm back pressed to his chest, his arms circling her. Surrounding her. "We should have been able to do this a long time ago," he whispered into the thick locks of her hair that his head lay upon.
"Yes," Hermione agreed. She turned over in the circle of his arms to see him. "I don't want to wake up alone ever again."
"You won't," he promised. As her lips met his once again, Harry suddenly realized something. He was in no position to make such a promise. There was no guarantee anymore than he could keep it.
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To Be Continued