Chapter Twelve
How Firewhisky Felt
Now that I know what I'm without
You can't just leave me
Breathe into me and make me real
Bring me to life
(Bring Me to Life - Evanescence)May 1st, 1998"Hermione, please wake up," Sirius cried, cradling her to his chest desperately.
For the first time in what felt like decades, tears formed in his eyes and fell swiftly
down his cheeks, still wet from the Horcrux-created flood that had tried to kill him only
moments ago.
"Mia," he whispered. "Please, wake up." His lips brushed gently against her
forehead, and he shut his eyes so tightly that he saw stars behind his eyelids. His heart
threatened to break inside his chest as he willed his own warmth to permeate her body, to
bring her back to him. As though he could will his own breath to...
He gasped as a memory surfaced. "Lily."
Sirius cursed under his breath, hoping that he had paid enough attention the first
time around. He moved Hermione's body gently down to the stone floor and did a rapid
visual survey, determined to remember something from many years ago.
"Bloody hell. How did Mia do this?" He lifted Hermione's chin with his fingers,
tilted her head backward, and pinched her small nose with his large, callused fingers before
adjusting her chin to part her lips.
Leaning close, Sirius inhaled, his hands shaking as he lowered his lips over hers.
Had it been any other moment in his life, had he not been trying to save her, had she not
been so cold beneath his touch, he would have relished the feel of her lips against his. He
would have groaned into her, devoured the feel of her mouth, lost himself in the sweetness
of her breath with hunger and longing.
But she had no breath.
So he gave her his.