The Light

Chapter 93- The Immortals

Chapter 93- The Immortals

They stayed like that until they heard a noise downstairs. Hermione jumped, but Sirius didn't move. It was almost like he'd given up, like he'd resigned himself to whatever fate he was destined to, like Death could walk through the door and he'd go without a fight.

It frightened her; that mentality always had, but it was more profound now. She couldn't lose anyone else.

Her hand curled round to her pocket, and she gripped her wand. There was no drive to her, but Hermione would be damned if she let anyone take the only thing she had left.

The footsteps were heavy, and the floorboards of the hallway creaked as the person made their way closer to where she and Sirius were sat. Hermione felt her throat stick, as the footsteps stopped, just outside the doorway. Then, they entered the room.

"Hagrid?"

Her breath came out as a rush of relieved air, as the half-giant lumbered into the room. His eyes were pink and bloated, and he rubbed a moleskin sleeve along his nose, sniffing loudly. He was stooped low, and his head skimmed the light, dangling from the ceiling.

Hagrid looked at them in surprise, but his expression quickly faded, and the sadness there was unbearable. Somehow, seeing him here made the situation all the more real. It was like the real world was intruding on her nightmare, when it wasn't supposed to. Hermione swallowed, getting to her feet.

The two of them just stared at each other, and there was a silent conversation in the sorrow of their eyes. After a moment, she walked forwards and wrapped her arms around him. He was warm, and soft, and his large arms came up to hug her back. She felt like the trembling Second Year, safe in his arms after Malfoy had called her a Mudblood for the first time. There was the same worthlessness to her, the same fragility of her twelve year old self. She had recovered from that, though. She didn't know whether it was possible for her to recover from this.

Hermione heard his muffled sobs. When they pulled away, she noticed that Sirius had stood up too. He was behind her, and there was nothing warm in the look he gave the Groundskeeper.

"What are you doing here, Hagrid?" he asked in a low, raspy voice.

Hermione heard the warning, the growl, and she looked at him carefully. Hagrid drew himself to his full height, and said, "Am 'ere fer Dumbledore. I need to take 'Arry away from 'ere."

The effect was instantaneous. Sirius drew his wand. He looked crazed, more like the madman Hermione had seen in the papers; the one with the wild eyes, and the ragged hair, who had just escaped Azkaban. But there was a calmness to him, as well. It was unnerving. He was like that supernova she had always thought him as; an incendiary collision of everything opposite and conflicting.

"He's our Godson," Sirius said quietly. "He's not Dumbledore's to take."

Hermione interjected quickly, "Sirius is right, Hagrid. It's okay. We'll look after him. He's ours now."

Hagrid looked at her, and there was apprehension in his dark eyes. She felt something churn inside of her at the hesitation flickering there, and she felt sick. He wrung his hands together. "'Ermione... I've got my orders."

"I know," she replied coolly, and even she was taken aback by the tone of her voice. "And I've got mine. I promised Lily and James before they died that I would look after him if anything happened. I'm not letting Dumbledore take that away from me. Not when-"

He's taken away everything else.

Hagrid shook his head sadly. He started forward- small, slow steps. "I'm sorry. I- I'm sorry."