"He's not your son," Sirius muttered.
"He's as good as," Mrs Weasley shot back fiercely. "Who else has he got?"
"He's got me!"
Still holding Harry's hand, Hermione felt the way her best friend's fingers clamped
down on hers. Her heart broke at the longing way Harry stared down the table at his
godfather.
Sirius, on the other hand, looked enraged.
"Yes," Mrs Weasley said, her lip curling. "The thing is, it's been rather difficult for
you to look after him while you've been locked up in Azkaban, hasn't it?"
There was a collective gasp around the table as everyone stared at either Sirius or
Mrs Weasley; both looked ready to duel.
Hermione glanced back at Harry, who was clearly emotionally torn, and she could
understand why. Mrs Weasley had been like a mother to him over the years, but even
Hermione could see where Sirius was coming from. After stumbling upon Professor Lupin
and Sirius's moment with Mundungus the other night, she could very clearly tell how
important Harry was to his godfather.
August 10th, 1995The door to the basement slowly opened, and Hermione shifted from her place on
the floor, where she had fallen asleep, to find herself face-to-face with Padfoot.
She had tried going to sleep that night, but the window in the bedroom she shared
with Ginny had a clear view of the full moon. Knowing that Professor Lupin was
somewhere in the house below, suffering, caused her heart to ache something fierce. She
had silently pulled herself from bed, grabbing a book on her way, and made the short
journey down the many steps to the basement where she knew Professor Lupin was being
held behind a variety of protective wards. She had sat down near the door and listened to
the sounds of pacing claws on pavement, loud sniffing, and the occasional bark. She figured
that the ward included some sort of sensory block, considering her presence outside the
door did not seem to cause any trouble from within.