the_debt_of_time

Hermione had been hurt. But it was obvious in the way that Sirius refused to leave her side
that he was keeping secrets.
"Not my place. Just... She saved me. And I almost let her―"
"We," Harry corrected. "This is on all of us, not just you."
"It's my job to take care of you lot," Sirius tried to explain.
"It's my job to save the world." Harry shrugged his shoulders. "She's in the world,
therefore it's my job. You can't take my job, Sirius. You're not the Chosen One, I am."
Sirius rolled his eyes and huffed out a weak chuckle. "Oh, stop with the bloody
Chosen One nonsense."
"Can she travel?" Harry asked, ignoring him. "You know we can't stay in one place
for very long. We've already been here for days."
"You still having visions?" Sirius inquired, noticing the exhausted look in Harry's
eyes.
Harry shifted his gaze away as he sighed, nodding. "I want to stop, but none of us
is in any shape to practise Occlumency right now. It would only make us weaker," he
admitted sadly. "He's searching for a wand, and he's kidnapped Ollivander and killed
Gregorovitch."
"Might be the Death Stick," Sirius suggested.
"What's that?"
From behind them, Hermione mumbled, "It's just a myth."
"Go back to sleep, love," Sirius instructed.
She ignored him, rolling up to face Harry. "It's a myth about an unbeatable wand.
There's a story about it in the book Dumbledore gave me."
"That thing's all in runes. When did you have the chance to translate it?" Sirius asked
her with a raised brow.
"I've been sitting here doing nothing for days," Hermione shrugged, wincing in pain
as her shoulder protested the movement.
Sirius cocked an eyebrow at her. "You're supposed to be resting."
"And you're a terrible watchdog; you constantly fall asleep. When you do that, I
read." Reaching for the book that she kept beneath her pillow, Hermione brushed off
Sirius's hands when he tried to help her get comfortable.