Disclaimer: Harry Potter's not mine; it's all J.K. Rowling's. Only the fic is mine. Surely we all know this by heart now?

Author's Note: A weird plot bunny I got one day. It's fluffy, angsty, and completely nonsensical . . hopefully that doesn't stop you from telling me what you think of it?

This is from Hermione's POV.

Warning: If you can not stand pedophilia/minor-adult relationships, or anything to do with those two topics, then feel free to turn back now. You've been warned - if you want to send me a flame, that's fine by me. But just now that you'll be wasting your time doing that when you could've spent it doing better things. :)

Dedicated to Kalie, for not minding me writing this. And to you, the reader/reviewer. Thanks :D


The day that I fell in love with the unlikeliest – and wizarding society's biggest peeve – man in the world was when I realized that it's good to break rules, to not listen to anybody.

If I let people boss me around, and make decisions for me, it would prove that I wasn't human, wasn't capable of thinking for myself. And anyone with a brain knew that Hermione Granger, although she didn't act like it, was human. At least I hope they knew that, anyway.

That wasn't like it with Sirius. No, not at all. He knew who I was, and didn't judge me for being a smart, know it all bookworm. He loved me for it. "You can teach me lots of things that I don't know but you know," he said one day. "You're a good teacher, Hermione. Everything a man would want to know, he would learn it from you."

That, I know, was the best compliment anyone could ever have gotten – that I could ever have received.

Sure, it was an "unconventional" relationship in society's eyes, but we were happy with it. I loved being with Sirius, and he loved being with me. We were happy together – why be denied happiness and extreme joy and love? In our minds, we were perfect together.

And that wouldn't change. As much as we had tried to vehemently deny it before, in the end, we couldn't.

We couldn't bear it any longer; we had to be with each other. Call it sexual tension, call it greediness, call it what you will – but all we knew was that we couldn't go on any longer ignoring what invisible tension and feeling was in the air between us. My earlier protests when I realized I needed to be with him proved to come to nothing. I couldn't deny it; neither could he. And even if Fate had woven this path for me, the path that led me to him, I knew I wouldn't have it any other way. I would accept it. And be happy and grateful to the skies above for it. And ever since we had gotten together, we were truly happy and lived a blissful life.

Sirius liked normalcy, I soon learned. In fact, he lived for it. In a lot of ways he was like Harry, but like Harry, he remained himself, and didn't let anyone boss him around. He was unique.

Normalcy was the thing that Sirius strived for, wanted to have. But he never got it, even after he was sent to rest peacefully among the things he loved best: the earth, the sky, the clouds, and the fresh air.

At that a bitterness envelops me. How could he have fresh air, experience the tantalizing refreshness of it when he couldn't breathe anymore? If he couldn't have normalcy, couldn't he at least live? He had been denied freedom before – now he had been denied the right to live.

The world and Fate, stupid thing that it is, didn't see it that way. Our perfect, happy world that we had wrapped ourselves in, knowing nothing else, was shattered when that – that thing killed him.

I can't even call the one thing I hate a thing; it's unfortunately a person. A her. But she's not a human, she's more of a thing. An it. And that is forever what "she" will be reduced to. Who's this she I so vilely despise? Sirius's cousin, and a woman who doesn't deserve to live.

Sirius' death has reduced me to this, and I knew he would hate to see and have me like this. But this wretched, loathing, hell bent on revenge woman that I was now was what I was going to be for the rest of my life – unless I had a sudden, unexpected revelation or regret that made me step back and transform back into the Hermione I had been once before.

That was likely to happen soon. I scoffed at that thought. But still I had to be amazed at the way I had changed so much in the past few months – I was no longer Hermione. Not the one Sirius had loved, not the one everyone worshipped and admired. No – this was a different Hermione. A whole new woman, lost in her own grief and desire to take revenge.

That was me. I was lost – lost in all the emotion that had surrounded me after Sirius's death, and the denial and anger that I felt every agonizing minute, second of every day. That's how lost I was.

And it had taken Sirius to bring me back to the Hermione I truly was, to the woman he had loved. A vision, or maybe it had been a dream, had come to me one night, and just when I had planning to get redemption on it – on Bellatrix. The name itself was so vile in my mouth that for an instant I had the urge to vomit. Even thinking it made me shudder all over.

"See what you've become, Hermione?" He whispered to me. "You're wishing the worst kind of hell on your enemy, when you know it's no use. Doing it won't bring me back, and getting revenge on her would land you in Azkaban, or somewhere worse. If there's such a thing. God forbid, Hermione, that you should ever go to Azkaban. I would rather die a thousand times over than see you in that depraved place."

That's what he had said to me. And it took that to jerk me back to reality, and cry all the tears that the world had left. I collapsed, knowing the truth now, but refusing to live. I knew I couldn't live without Sirius – it would be a living hell to.

I marveled at who – or what – I had become, and was grateful that I had been given the chance to right things, to not get carried away, to use my life to make the world better. Somehow, and through everything I did, I was determined to make it happen. A small contribution of mine would count, as would everyone's small and large contributions. Every little bit counted. I was not going to carry on like this, wallowing in despair and wasting away uselessly. Even if it pained me to do so.

But I knew I had to do it – I had to live for him, as well for me. I couldn't be selfish and foolish like that. It wasn't "Hermioneish" to do that. So I didn't. I tried to move on, keeping Sirius in my thoughts every day, and somehow I healed. Slowly, slowly, slowly. The knowledge that Bellatrix was going to get what she fully deserved comforted me. In the end, even with unmistakable odds stacked against it, good would always triumph over evil. Always always always. And if it looked like it wasn't going to win, I was going to do my best to make sure that I did.

It was the least I could do for Sirius, and at that thought, I smiled sadly. Having been lost in myself – it was the least I could do for the one man I loved, and still did, even if he was beyond death. And I knew he was, somewhere, watching me – and I swore to myself that I would make him proud, and have good win so everyone who deserved to live, did. Saving people's lives, making sure evil didn't – and ever would – win, and moving on, that's what I did.

I remember having heard before the words "it's when you realize, in one flying moment, that maybe, just maybe, the people you have lost aren't truly lost." And it was true; Sirius lived on. He lived on in my mind and my heart. He lived in everyone's hearts and minds – he was their inspiration.

Sirius hadn't been lost, I realized now. He had always been there. And even if he had been lost – I knew we could find him, that I could find him, no matter where he was.

I would always find him whenever I was lost.