Hello all, I'm back! Hope you've been enjoying the story, I'll try and update regularly now and we'll see where it takes us shall we?

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Chapter 6: Night Terrors

It was warm, and it was the warmth which bothered her most of all. There was a churning inside of her, a fear which was tumbling through her body like a barrage of molten mayhem, she'd felt it before. She was more familiar with the feeling than any sane person would hope to be, but she had always associated it with the cold. The knot in her stomach came coupled with dripping cellar walls and the smell of rot and moss; it came with a cold bite in the air and the cool feel of steel against her skin.

But now she was warm. She was aware of the smooth varnished floorboards of her hallway beneath her feet; boards which Bo had slaved over for weeks. She could smell the heady scent of orchids from the hallway table and the sharp reassuring tang of freshly brewed coffee in the air.

Everything was just as it should be, and nothing was. Why was she here? Why was it so damn quiet? And why did that quiet footstep behind the kitchen door create more dread in her heart then Bellatrix had ever managed?

Her hand went automatically to her necklace and she flinched as the stone burned ice cold, her hand throbbed like a heartbeat and she tucked it under her arm to smother the pain as she pressed herself against her cream coloured walls. Walls which had once filled her with tranquillity as she contemplated bringing a little person into this house, walls which now seemed flat and unforgiving, leaving her nowhere to hide from...

Well, from what?

The throbbing in her hand diminished and she brushed her thumb across the skin of her arm in a well practiced gesture. It was funny how these habits calmed her, the crystal at her neck and the scar on her arm...

The scar on her arm, which was gone.

In one quick rush she knew, she was dreaming. Nothing here was real. The house which she'd once called home, the coat stand by the door, the cold unforgiving light which shone beneath the kitchen door.

It wasn't real, it wasn't her and it wasn't her house. But the fear felt real, it demanded her attention and, more alarming than anything else, it felt familiar.

Part of her was screaming to wake up, to bury herself in the sheets and blankets of Grimmauld Place and try and work this out from the outside looking in. But really she knew that the only way to know was to keep walking and push through that door. Put a wand to her head and she wouldn't have been able to explain why she had to know, a nightmare was a nightmare after all, nothing more.

But this one felt more like a memory. It was her walking down this corridor, not an abstract version conjured by terrors in the night. If it was a memory it wasn't one she owned though, whatever her mind was telling her she had never felt this fear in her own home, and she knew the only way to get out of this was to find out what was behind that door.

The stone was freezing now against her skin and she could feel the shivers beginning to run through her. That was more like it; cold and fear she could cope with.

The door was as real as it had ever been as she pushed it open, but the powerful blast of magic which shot through her as she walked through the door had no place in her home. No sooner had she felt the last sparks in her finger tips then the world started to shudder at the edges. The light in the room began to narrow and dim and her arms felt like led as they hung at her side.

Move, move, move.

Her conscious mind, always the voice of reason, was screaming at her but try as she might the most she could manage was a half hearted shuffle to spin herself around to face the door.

Walk, just walk. Move your fucking legs and WALK.

But then she heard the footstep behind her.

OK, scratch that. RUN...

And still there was nothing. Nothing but the sound of her breath and the beat of her heart as it tried its best to burst through her chest.

And the feel of the arm as it pushed her into the wall, and the hard press of a strong body behind her.

"Where the fuck do you think you're going?"

And the sound of screaming.

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"Hermione?"

The screaming wouldn't stop. Her fingers clawed for the wall in front of her, all her sense and stability had vanished in an instant, it didn't matter that it was a dream. It didn't matter that in reality she was tucked up safe and sound miles from this godforsaken house. All that mattered was the overwhelming need to stop that noise and find a way out of the prison she had once called her kitchen.

"HERMIONE."

Warm hands were holding her down and her desperate fingers found flesh to scratch and scrape as the sound of horror and torment rang through her ears.

"Fuck, she's going to have my eye out. Sirius, stop staring and help me."

Sirius?

What?

It wasn't him, whoever it was that had pushed her into that wall and whispered words in a tone which literally froze her with fear, it wasn't him.

And that could only mean one thing.

Safe.

She was safe.

"Sirius!"

She barely noticed her forehead connect with another as she shot bolt upright in her bed, eyes wide with fear, arms flailing and only one word on her lips.

"Please!"

And he was there; he was there as if the last five years had vanished in an instant. Strong arms pulled her close as he tried desperately to calm her. She could feel his hand tremble as it stroked her hair and she knew that the feel of her heart pounding against his chest must have frightened him, Merlin knows it was scaring seven kinds of hell out of her.

But his hands kept stroking and he murmured words of light and safety against her cheek and she felt her heaving breaths begin to calm and the wracking tremors coursing through her soften to a gentle shiver.

And she was back in another time and place. Outside a crumbling, burning building, trying so hard to find comfort in the sound of Remus' voice in the distance. But it had been different arms which had saved her then, the same arms which were saving her now.

"Thank Merlin. Thank Merlin you came. I don't know... my house... I don't know."

"Shh, quiet, love. I'm here; you know I'll always be here. Nothing's going to happen to you sweetheart, you know I won't let it."

And he drew back to look at her. Brushing her hair back and wincing at her tear stained face as he tilted her head to catch her eyes with his own.

Dark, intense eyes gazed into hers in a way she hadn't seen in far too long and at last she allowed her vice like grip on his arms to relax and her hand came up to press against his heart. It was a silent gesture of thanks and remembrance which she knew he wouldn't miss.

God help her but she was falling apart. There was almost nothing that she recognised anymore. Some memory which had never been hers had stolen into her dreams and in only a few minutes it had inspired such fear. She honestly believed it could have killed her, she'd never been a solid believer in the power of dreams but she would gladly make her commitment to believe in them now.

Her husband was dead, she was a murderer, her house which was once a haven had become a hell and she was completely at sea. Hermione Granger had once felt invincible. She'd been strong and powerful and fearless.

And she'd known what she was fighting.

And now she knew nothing.

The world was spiralling out of control around her and yet one thing remained constant; in this place, with this man, she was safe. And a small and hopeful voice inside her whispered that he would be there to help her through it. Whatever it was.

His eyes hadn't wavered and now neither did his voice.

"I promise I won't let anyone hurt you."

As she allowed him to lay her back against the cool pillows she was unaware of Remus ruefully rubbing his forehead as he clambered up from the floor.

As she closed her eyes she was unaware of the fierce grip Sirius had on the side of the bed as he wrestled to process what had just happened, and what he had said. Words and actions had exploded forth completely unbidden and now he was in the very position he had been trying to avoid for five long years. He was faced with the fact that he was still completely in love with her.

And as she drifted off into the first peaceful sleep in what felt like months she was completely unaware of two sets of soft footsteps as the only wizards who had ever lay claim to her heart quietly left the room.

"Merlin." Sirius groaned as he leant against the wall and ran a tired hand over his face and through his hair.

"What the fuck was that?" Remus' eyes were wide and his tone was sharp with concern.

"I don't know, something's very, very wrong isn't it?" Sirius sat down on the step at his feet and rested his head against the wall, seeking some form of solid foundation in a rapidly shaky world.

"Yes." Remus sat down heavily next to him.

"She's back isn't she? We've got to help her, don't we?"

"Yes, she's back."

"Have we made our peace with that?" Sirius raised a questioning eyebrow at his oldest friend. Which way would it go? If Remus said no then they would do what they could as quickly as they could and then remove her from their lives again. He knew it would hurt, it would cut him deep and quick and burn like fire but he would do it, because that's what friends did.

But if he said yes then there would be doors springing open all around him and somewhere along the line he would have to make a choice.

For the moment he would conveniently ignore that voice inside him which knew that the choice had been made almost the minute he'd clapped eyes on her again. He would ignore the fact that he had made the same choice when her screams had sent him running to her room and her fear had instilled ice in his heart.

He would ignore the blatantly obvious love in his arms and his eyes as he had tried to bring her back to them, from whatever sort of hell she had been trapped in. Five minutes they had spent in that room watching her wrestle with herself as they tried to wake her, for five long and frightening minutes they had seen her body clench and thrash around. For five minutes he had watched her panic and heard terror he never wanted to witness again. The strongest silencing spells in his repertoire had been tried and tested tonight, and so had his resolve to stay away from her.

He had failed.

"Sirius, I made my peace with it all some time ago."

"What?"

"We've never spoken about it, you and I. But I'm not a complete fool, my friend. You're the one with questions to answer now."

And Sirius heard the unspoken words as clearly as if they had been yelled into his ear.

I know you love her. I know you loved her then.

Oh crap.

"Are you OK?" It was all he could think of to say, after all what could you say to a truth like that?

"No." Well at least he was honest.

"Are you OK?"

Sirius chuckled wryly. It didn't matter that this had almost been a complete betrayal, it didn't matter that he was the reason Remus had lost the girl he had once thought to be the love of his life. None of it mattered to Remus now. He was a bigger man than Sirius could ever hope to be and he was concerned about his friend.

"No."

"Christ." Remus' Muggle upbringing broke through as he rubbed his face in his hands and muttered the only word he could find to encapsulate the madness of the last few hours.

"I know." And with a heavy sigh Sirius hauled himself to his feet and extended a hopeful hand to the man who could as easily chose to punch him as he could chose to take this gesture of peace.

To his relief Remus took his hand and clasped it for a brief moment before raising his practiced, sardonic eyebrow and asking the question on both their minds.

"Drink?"

"Fucking hell, yes."