sb/hr

PERCHANCE TO DREAM CH. 8: The Gears Start Turning

2011-05-10T21:22:15Z

PERCHANCE TO DREAM
Ch. 8: The Gears Start Turning
Sirius/Hermione
NC17

A note from te Serade Black: Thank you for the well wishes on the baby. We're very excited, but it does put a hold on my convention attendance! I shall be attending Leaky Con, but only as an outsider, since my costumes are not fitting right now ;) Regardless, I shall be attending Ascendio 2012 in full force complete with another performance. Not a Live! Wizard Chessmatch again, but something even grander! So, this chapter is the PG13 version! All NC17 portions have been edited out, but you can read the saucier version over at my lifejournal. Thank you for the reviews. You know FF writers feed off of them like crack, so keep them coming. I absolutely love the guesses and predictions and remarks made in the reviews - they were really clever clever ;) But, no secrets shall be given... Enjoy ~SB

Ch. 8 "The Gears Start Turning"

The old elevator in the Ministry creaked with age as it soared in various directions. Department memos hovered about the dozen or so heads that all faced forward, their arms holding some sort of restraining mechanism in order to keep them upright.

Standing in the back, since his stop was mostly last, Sirius hung casually in the corner just people watching. He pitied and envied them at the same time, wondering what a normal life was like; to just blend in with your surroundings having no one take notice you were standing right behind them. For so long, Sirius went undetected once he escaped from Azkaban thanks to his cunning plan of starving himself and sneaking out of those bars. Now, he wished those eyes would remain off of him even into his matured life. He no longer wanted to be in the tabloids, the society section of the Daily Prophet, or in their fading column "Black Tracks" that depicted his outings. Lately, he was featured alongside of his young companion, referring to her as "Harry Potter's Best Friend". That got old rather quickly. Still, he wouldn't change their past for anything.

The elevator stopped on the appropriate floor he desired. Parting the ways between the remaining occupants, Sirius politely excused himself off the rickety contraption and started walking down the hallway. His visits were seldom to this area, having his appointments been met in a different area of the Ministry. Still, he added a slight swagger to his step as his boots clicked loudly on the hard cold floor, eager to see his witch.

He approached the tall intimidating double wooden doors that looked ages old. With cracks and worn marks into the etched wood, it did not hide its age very well. Next to the double doors with the brass handles a plague was mounted on the wall:

Department of Mysteries

Sirius gave it as much respect as he did any other authority and opened the door without a second thought. He then continued down a separate hallway, once that felt very sterile and scientific as the pathway was lined with more dark doors, leading off into different mysterious areas.

Finally, he came upon a clearing that was the lobby for the departments beyond and an attractive looking witch with blonde curly hair sat with her nose buried in a book. A Quick Quotes Quill hovered around her head, poised for further dictation. On the counter in front of her, a small bouquet of flowers bloomed, adding to the otherwise dreary decor.

The witch looked up as she heard his clicking boots and with a proud flirtatious smile, she folded her book and cozy up to his attentions. Her big green eyes gazed at him with hopeful interest, but friendly just the same.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Black," she charmed. Here eyes traveled the length of him as he leaned over the counter to speak to her.

"Hello love, is Miss Granger in?" He asked politely, taking a dangerous look down the front of her blouse. He was a man, after all.

"She should be back in her office. She was off in the lab a little while ago, but she's since returned," the reception witch answered, indicating for Sirius to go on passed her.

Pushing off of the counter, he plucked a single flower out of the bouquet nearby and put it between his teeth, offering the witch one of his classic winks. He ventured down the hallway to the last door on the left and he saw that hers was open.

He walked in without warning and holding out his hands to display himself, flower in tact, he came upon his witch speaking to Isa. Both women looked in his direction and offered a sincere chuckle, but it was the way Hermione's face lit up upon seeing him that was heaven bestowed upon him. With a roll of her eyes, Isa gave Sirius a slight smirk and shook her head, excusing herself so that Hermione could greet him appropriately.

Hermione's office was simple with contemporary furnishings showing her muggle side. The wall was lined with her education degree, alongside of individual merits and awards granted to her for her achievements; the most recent was for uncovering one mystery of the Veil. On her desk, odd pens, quills and scrolls were put in neat disarray with two moving portraits depicting her Hogwarts years and a sweet one of her and Sirius from Luna's wedding.

"Hello, handsome," Hermione said, dropping formalities now that her colleague had left her office. She went to her wizards and slid her arms around his neck, removing the flower between his teeth to kiss him. "This is a sweet surprise."

With a kick of his boot, the door to her office closed and he felt free to wrap his arms around her waist in their newfound privacy in order to greet her without any indiscretions. His heart soared as she warmed him with her embrace, still never believing she was there with him. Every day that she had returned from using the Time Turner had been a long awaited blessing, one he never hoped to take advantage of. This is why he was there with her at that moment.

He hugged her tightly, nuzzling his nose into the crook of her neck, taking in her erotic scent. He could smell her intoxicating perfume that was a gift from him ages ago. It was the same familiar scent that had stayed with him all through his most tormented years, having embedded it to memory from the time she first came to him in 1981.

"I love you," he whispered low and against her ear, feeling his pulse quicken for her. He slid his fingers down her back and flattened his hands over her rear, "Missed you."

She felt her cheeks warm from his gentle petting; his body felt stiff and solid against her. Hermione ran her hands down the front of his blazer, her fingers sliding along the lapels and gripping them playfully.

"I always do, Sirius," she replied with an upturned kiss. She loved the way his stubble scraped her lips and chin as they moved together.

Without realizing it, Sirius had gently walked Hermione towards her desk, where she was leaning up against it. One hand slid down her thigh, feeling for the hem of her whimsy skirt. He was found out as his hand attempted to pull her skirt up provocatively up her leg.

He was stopped in an instant, "Sirius." Still, he insisted.

"Thank you for wearing a skirt to the office today, kitten," he growled, finding her sweet spot hidden just below her ear. Her hands slid to his shoulders, giving weak resistance.

He brazenly dared a provoking stroke along her thigh and over her panties covering her apex. Already, he could feel the slight dampness he was creating as he slowly seduced her. The flesh of her thigh was soft and he dared himself by grazing, once again.

"Sirius," she chided, her voice dropping almost into a whisper as his small ministrations were already enticing her. "My co-workers are right outside."

"No bother," he cooed, his spell overpowering her and his witch fell wantonly into his arms, "I'll be quiet." She said his name again, barely fighting. "Besides, you know what red panties do to me. "

With barely any effort, he hoisted her onto the edge of her desk and slid his hand between her thighs to spread them just slightly. She made a small sound, but really just let his touches lead her. He made no effort to unbuckle his own pants, for his will was not to defile her on her desk, but to make her hold herself back as he tickled her in his own private way. As if praising her like a Queen, he fell to his knees before her and parted her knees further.

"Sirius, no!" she whispered with haste. "We shouldn't! I can't-"

Her breath was stolen as she felt his fingers push aside the fabric of her panties and his tongue offered her a single languid lap. Sirius had her; her struggle had subsided.

As he knelt more comfortably on his knees, he wrapped his free arm around her thigh in order to rest her legs over his shoulders. His fingers continued to hold her panties back. Very slowly he nuzzled her folds and felt her body relax and she leaned back over her desk with her head tilted back.

Her sex was sweet, but salty. He could still smell the bath soaps she used that morning, but she was already slick with desire as he ran his tongue in between her nether lips. His tongue lapped generously, but his lips nibbled gently on her bud. Sliding up and around her slit, he teased her with a single finger entering her. He heard the music of her gentle sighing and felt her knees tense up around his neck as he chanced a plunge into her depths. Whether it was his finger, or his tongue, she encouraged his haste with the way her chest rose and fell quickly with lust.

Keeping her sounds quiet, time was not on his side as they chanced an interruption any minute. Such conduct was not conducive to someone in her position, literally. Rather than stop, Sirius pushed on harder and faster. She struggled to stay quiet above him, but his tongue darted to her center, pulsing in and out, until she was nearly in a fit her knees were shaking so badly. She reached to run a free hand through his hair, praising him for his talents, but gripping him to ride out her orgasm as both tongue and finger fucked her in tandem. Her cries were muffled, her pleasure at its peak and with a final nibble and suck, Hermione allowed her release as she gripped the edge of her desk. Her panting was all to be heard between them and with barely a proper moment to relax, Sirius pulled her up and kissed her hard, leaving the salty spent taste of her on her own lips.

"I love you," he growled against her lips. She was weak like a rag doll in his arms. As he pulled her away, her hair was tousled, her shirt wrinkled and her skirt out of place, giving off the appearance she had been properly shagged, whereas he looked completely untouched. "Come home soon."

Leaving her where she stood, he gave her one last wink and left her office, leaving the door ajar. A few minutes later, Isa returned to see Hermione practically in shambles and she glanced back down the hallway to see Sirius walking down the hallway with an arrogant swagger.

Hermione realized her appearance and immediately made every effort straighten up as Isa returned with, "So, does he have a brother?"

The grandfather clock in the hallway ticked away, the sound echoing through the neighboring rooms openly. The portraits on the walls nodded along to one another, still getting used to the new additions that were replacing the older, less friendly ones from years' past. Coupled pictures of Sirius and Hermione decorated the walls, depicting their short life together that everyone would know. Harry, Hermione and Ron in their more youthful years grinned back proudly as they waved their graduating certificates into the Ministry together and lastly, a fond picture of the original Marauders, sans Pettigrew was centered almost too perfectly amongst all the others. Several times, the Hermione in one picture would venture off into the Marauder's frame to sneak off with the other Sirius, leaving the older Sirius to stand alone and file his nails on his coat.

The old picture of the Black Brothers still remained on the wall. Sirius was still very fond of the picture and hadn't the heart to take it down. Hermione supported him, doing nothing to the portrait other than updating the frame it was placed in. There, Slytherin brother against Gryffindor brother remained teasing.

Upstairs and to the end of the hall, a grand bed with mahogany wood was draped in beautiful French linens articulating the deep carvings. There was a matching wardrobe and night stands on either side of the bed to compliment the room, while giving it a regal elegant feel.

Hermione sat in bed propped up with thick plush pillows as her head leaned against the wooden bed frame. A book laid across her lap and for the time being was deeply engrossed in the story as her eyes began to drift off the page and into her real life.

Next to her, Sirius lay on his stomach with one arm tucked under his pillow in habit. His other hand reached out blindly, just to rest a hand somewhere on her skin to feel comfort that she was close. He loved his witch desperately, even on nights where he sacrificed sleep because she still had the light on in order to read.

She glanced over to her handsome wizard that lay so peaceful, but not yet sleeping. A small grin passed over her lips as she thought fondly of their meeting when he was much younger. A boy then, by her standards, she admired the man he had become. Even more so, she admired him for remaining so fixed on her and it was then that she realized this was their destiny to be.

"You know," Hermione started with a quiet voice, not sure if he would hear her, "I'm going to start getting a complex pretty soon."

Very slowly, his eyes opened and blinked for a few moments. He wasn't asleep, but it was obvious he was just on the cusp of dreamland, until he heard her speaking to him. She still clutched her book, but as he looked up at her from the comforts of his goose down pillow, she closed it and slid it away.

"About what, love?" he asked, brushing his hand over her arm, closing his eyes again as he listened to the sooth of her voice.

Her answer was simple, ""If you don't ask me to get married. Pretty soon, I'm just going to have to ask you." Her answer was quick and casual, with devotion in her voice.

With a slight grin, he answered, "You don't want to marry me. Trust me."

"The hell I don't. Of course, I want to marry you. I've just been wondering when you were going to ask me. We haven't even talked about it, Sirius." She said, obviously wanting to pursue the subject matter with him.

He didn't even open his eyes, just rested his hand over her arm and sighed, "Hermione."

Rolling over on her side, she wanted him to open her eyes and look at her when they talked about this sensitive subject, "Don't you want me to be your wife?"

His grey eyes finally opened to meet hers. They both rested on their pillows, their hands touching as if pleased to just be so close and mixed messages seemed to be communicating between them. He did not want to alert her, nor did he want to exhaust this conversation if already he knew she wasn't going to be happy with his side of it all.

"Hermione, to me you're more than my wife. You saved my life, twice, and for that I am eternally grateful. I am your servant, always. I am more in love with you than you will ever understand."

"Then, why not ask me to marry you?" she still asked, not seeing the difference.

For almost a full minute, they looked into each others' eyes, dreaming about life with or without the other one. They had a long life ahead of them together, something that was proved fragile; to change anything might change it all.

With a light sigh, Sirius rolled over on his back, knowing that he wasn't going to be getting to sleep anytime soon as this persisted. He was left without answers, only honesty, and he knew that she wasn't going to like what it was he wanted to say. So, like a bandage, he pulled it right off.

"Because, I'm afraid," he began, pinching the bridge of his nose to avoid a headache he felt coming on, "I'm afraid things would change and not be as they are now. If we got married, things might not be as good."

"Of course, they would change," she said, rising to lean on her elbow, hoping to see his face better, "but for the better. We've come so far, beaten the odds and after everything, I still can't see myself without you. Being married to you is almost at the top of my list."

Curious, he turned his head and asked, "And what, if I may ask, is at the top of the list?"

She swallowed sheepishly and glanced down away from him, her hair falling to shield her face, "Having a baby...with you."

His hands went to his face and he cried into them, "Merlin's-"

He felt the frustration and fear welling up inside of him, like water building up against the dam and any moment, it was going to falter and collapse. He pulled the covers off of him and started to pace the room, feeling a strong sense of uncontrollable anxiety closing in on him. His life was gaining perspective and it wasn't anything he envisioned. Anyone would have been over the moon to marry this witch and have a family with her, but he was too old for all of that, now. He was just happy to be alive and more than blessed that she wanted him in return. He wouldn't deprive her of anything, but for her to start a family with him would be the end. It would change so much, things wouldn't be spontaneous, but remain on thin ice like this lifetime they shared. He just couldn't grasp it; he just couldn't wrap his head around the reality of how things were beginning to play out.

"Sirius, I find this outburst a little disconcerting. Why are you acting like this?" she asked, sitting up in the bed they shared. The sheets and comforter pooled around her, restraining her from getting out and walking alongside of him. Instead, she watched him pace.

"Hermione, I wouldn't have much to contribute to the gene pool. I'd fuck it up!" he said, shaking his head and pacing in the bedroom. His eyes caught a portrait sitting on their dresser and he wondered if the smiling couple looking back at him with wide smiles was really a right match.

"Will you stop? You would not. Besides, where is all this coming from? You just told me that you wanted children, Sirius," she asked, a little concerned, but at least he stopped pacing and stood where he stopped.

Handsome and shirtless, his shoulders slumped and he appeared worn like he'd lost a battle. He walked over to her and rested a hand under her chin, admiring her pretty young face, "That was years ago, Hermione. Before, everything happened."

She took the hand that held her face, looking up into his eyes from the confines of their bed, "Sirius, none of that matter. I love you more now, than I did back then."

He smiled sincerely, loving the way she looked up into his face so hopeful, "It does matter, love."

"Why? I don't see how your views can change so drastically."

"Because, you're almost a lifetime behind me," he finished, coming back to his side of the bed. He was finding it very difficult to continue looking into those beautiful eyes and not granting her what she wanted most of all. He was more than flattered that she would even tease with the idea of becoming Mrs. Black, but he didn't want to condemn her to that title. Not when things were so perfect now, after years of waiting.

She watched him crawl back into bed and pull the covers back up to his chest. She leaned on her side, resting a hand against his chest, "Sirius, I'm not going anywhere, so you might as well start clearing your head of that."

As she rested her chin on the back of her hand, leaning on his chest, he couldn't help but begin to stroke her head. Her luscious waves cascade around her pretty head, looking up at him hopeful and with complete devotion. He yearned for her when she was away from him to the point where his heart ached until she was back in his arms, or just nearby at reach. He treasured their time together, always wanting to be the man she needed, but it was at this moment where he doubted himself.

"Darling, my fear is that everything will change between us. Like something would go away and everything I've held onto would just disappear and I would be lost all over again. I just can't risk that," he said as his hand stroked gently. Finally, his hand stilled on her back as he watched her close her eyes to his words.

His words were quiet on her ears, sweet and light, but concerned nevertheless. She tilted her head to the side and ran a finger along his perfect jaw, "I understand. I'm staying with you whether you marry me, or not. I'll just have to deal with your decision."

With a silent retreat, he closed his eyes and whispered, "Thank you."

"But, in a few years, I might just start signing my name as Black, just to break up the monotony."

He chuckled and resumed stroking his fingers through her soft hair. She leaned up to kiss him, holding her lips to his for a few extra moments, savoring his scent and energy that was all around them. She felt his hand hold her head to him, wanting to cherish their connection as well.

As she pulled away, their eyes just opening, "But someday, I might have the upper hand of your mind and cast a muting spell to hold your tongue and you can't speak Russian to protect us."

She meant it as a joke, but she saw how quickly his face turned into a grimace. He turned his head to face the window, incredibly conflicted from the inside out, disappointed that she hadn't conceded to everything. How was he going to convey to her that child between them would not be the smartest move? What they had now was perfect. A healthy love between them, a happy home, strong support system and whatever they wanted at the disposal of their finger tips and if something, just one more thing like either of the two issues she brought up were factored in, things might change drastically and jeopardized his world.

"I cannot go along with that, love," he said, his voice sounding strained. He still didn't face her.

"Sirius, to be fair, it really shouldn't be up for a discussion. Eventually, I'll be ready to move forward. I don't want to be known as 'Sirius Black's young girlfriend' in all the papers forever. That, to me, sounds unstable." She felt like she was pleading with him, but her voice and breath as cool and calm.

"What do you mean unstable?" he asked quickly, turning his head back to face her. He didn't like how she believed they weren't concrete.

She rolled on her back, somewhat pleased she had stirred something in him that forced him to inquire. She fixed the comforter and sheets around her answering, "Unstable. Inconsistent. Short term-"

This made him lean up on his elbows, his eyes were dark, but convincing, "But, I'm not going anywhere."

"And neither am I, but it's the principle of the matter. I want our life to progress and evolve, I want to be your wife someday, I want to have children with you, and I want to do all the things that you wanted to do when we first met. That's all." She tried to convince him, but merely just stated her case in the calmest 'matter of fact' voice that she could carry.

He sighed while shaking his head, "My priorities have changed, obviously." His voice was quiet, but sincere. "The only thing I want in this life, is to make you happy."

She rolled over on her side, her eyes almost pleading, believing she held the power to convince him. She reached out and ran a hand down his cheek lovingly, "Then be a family with me. I have always held a special fondness for you when I was younger and it's no question why we're together, now. I always dreamt of having someone just like you, someone with a past, someone with stories, someone that I could learn from and above all else, someone I could fall in love with. You have so much more to offer than just a friendship to a child and be that "filler" dad to your best friend's son. You could mold a person that you created to carry the same values you do. You can alter your own destiny and put a better name on the House of Black. It's up to you, Sirius. You're the last one."

He closed his eyes as he cherished the soft touching of her hand along his features, as if she were worshiping him at that moment. He didn't deserve the words she was saying.

"You can't blame a girl asking the love of her life to marry her," she finished.

He smiled and held her hand against his face, "You're twenty-one, love. Not a long life to compare."

"I don't want anyone else, Sirius," she confirmed. "I'm sure of that."

"You just haven't met everyone, yet," he chuckled, warmed by her confession and devotion.

She shook her head, believing that she might be finally getting through to him. "We would be incredible parents. We have so much to offer and I know that you would feel so much more fulfilled than you already do."

Sirius relaxed off of his elbows and rested his head back against his pillows, not letting go of her hand. He looked up at the ceiling, thinking about life and the roads ahead. He pacified her with a quiet, "Perhaps."

She didn't push on, she just leaned over and laid a gentle kiss on his cheek and curled up closely against him. She was feeling more and more complete, again. Though she knew that her battle had not been won full out, at least she had started the process.

As their lights dimmed and the room took on its slumbering energy, he whispered to her through the darkness after all was silent. "I know when I came out of the Veil and you were the one that touched me," he began, feeling her stir next to him to hear him better. "That was the happiest I had ever felt. I don't want to jeopardize what we have together, now, at this moment, under this roof and in this world. But, if I have to make a decision in order to keep you happy, than I will."

She hummed her appreciation and kissed his bare arm, "Thank you, Sirius. Things can only get better."

PERCHANCE TO DREAM Ch. 7: Flashes of a Good Life

2011-04-26T05:20:56Z

A note from Serade Black: I can only apologize for my hiatus, but life took an amazing turn! My husband and I are expecting our first child this summer. Anyway, back to the story, I've had questions about the timeline, so to answer, yes time is progressing and I'm trying to document what time of year it is as best as I can. At the beginning of this chapter, it will be clear when they are. Sirius and Hermione's story took a different direction and I had to rehash the story a bit (for my outline), before I could continue. I always have an outline for my stories, but this one went slower than I wanted. I hope you enjoy the upcoming chapters and the words I have are: Things aren't always what they seem. Enjoy!

PERCHANCE TO DREAM
Ch. 7
Flashes of a Good Life

Ch. 7 - Flashes of a Good Life

The wind outside started to pick up with fierce force. Brittle branches belonging to old trees danced into the air, tapping against any window pane it could reach. Snow fell heavy this season, blanketing the streets and brick windowsills, creating a typical look English look. Beyond the strong wrought iron gates of number twenty-four, candle light could be seen illuminating the windows.

In the warm house with newly finished wood flooring, a fire burned strong as it lit up the faces of the two inhabitants. Sirius was lying on the floor, his legs stretched and his ankles crossed. He was wearing plaid pajama pants with no shirt, displaying his toned chest adorned with tribal markings. His eyes were fixed on the fire as the beautiful young witch next to him covered her bare shoulders with a nearby blanket. She wore a red satin night gown that didn't leave much to the imagination and not much to keep her warm. Several remarks were made that she wouldn't be wearing it much longer.

The room they sat in, the main parlor of the house, was still unfinished. In fact, the whole house was far from done, but it was finally settled enough to sleep under the roof, that was now repaired. The wall paper had been stripped, the cabinets in the kitchen had been ripped out, the modern electrical lights hung with exposed wires and candles were being used in the meantime.

"Are you sure you don't want to spend tonight with Harry and the rest of the lot?" Hermione asked, raising her champagne flute to Sirius's level. She tossed her hair over her other shoulder, in order to allow the heat from the fire to warm her face.

"Absolutely," he cooed, raising his glass to toast with her. "What better way to bring in the New Year than alone, together, in the first night of this house?"

She smiled, dropping her eyes to his mouth and then to the floor between them. He had a way of making any moment feel so special, enough for butterflies to well up within her all over again.

"You're beautiful, you know. You continue to enchant me beyond words, Hermione Granger." He pushed a lock of her hair away from her face and tucked it behind her ear. "I couldn't imagine myself without you."

"Then don't," she said simply as she sipped her champagne. She allowed her eyes to drift towards the flames in the fireplace before them.

"I haven't a reason to, my love." He pushed the blanket to fall off her shoulder in order to lay a light kiss on the exposed skin.

She closed her eyes to take in his gentle caress; she knew his motives too well. With minimal effort, Hermione slid out of her blanket and crawled onto him. As she straddled him, her arms pinned him down as he was still upright and leaning on his elbows. She felt his hands gently sliding up along her ribs, letting his fingers catch on the satin fabric. With hunger in her eyes, she leaned down and met his eager lips.

She trailed kisses over his cheek, along his sharp jaw, and up to his ear where she sighed, "Happy New Year, Sirius."

The end of January was approaching. The holiday season was behind them and work resumed without a second thought. Hermione was filing away some folders into a cabinet, as her partner Isa could be heard clicking down the hallway in her rather elaborate pumps, not conventional for work.

She swung around the corner entering Hermione's office and holding rolls and rolls of parchment and laying them all over her just neatened desk. "Out of the three hundred and seventy-two people you pulled out that day, we only have record on about two hundred and thirty. Forty-eight are presumed dead and one lives with you," she jabbed. "There are still several cases undetermined."

Closing the drawer in her cabinet, Hermione sighed and walked over to her desk, looking down at the rolls and rolls of scrolls without an end. They gathered in the center, keeping them neat and tidy for her, due to her anti-clutter enchantment on her desk. "I think that we may have to conclude that perhaps, some just don't want to be found."

"Why not? They're entitled to a stipend, they could really make out on this project if they came forward," Isa added, bewildered why anyone would turn down free galleons.

"We can't think for them, Isa," she said pushing away a few stray locks that had pulled away from her pins holding her hair back. "Perhaps I'll speak to the Minister about putting up an enchantment for them, should they ever enter the Ministry. Nothing to hurt them, just something to put a mark on them so people know."

Isa looked beside herself and turned to leave her office, clicking away down the hallway with furious steps.

Unsure of what the next step was for "Project Veil", Hermione vacated her office to go downstairs to the main hall of the Ministry to get a cup of fresh hot tea and a scone. As she left her department, passing a few rows of offices along the way, she couldn't help but think of the day she executed Project Veil. Months of planning went into it, the science of whether someone could actually come out, based on the fact that only some could hear voices just on the other side. The veil was supposed to be final, the next phase, not a waiting room of bodies and souls that weren't ready to pass over.

Hermione's rather simple plan of sending someone in, namely a convicted Death Eater in Azkaban, restrained on the living side. Said prisoner, or subject, would reach into the empty void and see if survivors were possible. All but a dozen were alive and were grateful to return. They had an immediate aversion to the light, shading themselves and crying that even the torch lights in the Department of Mysteries were too harsh. They needed to feel others; they reached out once they were back in their own world, for a connection, another warm body. They were starved for affection.

Her motivation for the project was Sirius.

Because of a simple two worded sentence she found at the end of her diary from when she was fifteen, it prompted her to push forward with the project in the event that the wronged prisoner could be saved. In the process several others were also retrieved from beyond the veil, but it wasn't until she rescued Sirius did she stop. Seeing him as a rescued soul in the arms of McNair, having just been yanked back to the side of the wizarding world, was a beacon of hope. He represented a second chance, but mostly it was for her selfish reasons that he might be the man that she needed. She never forgot the way he reached out for her, held her and whispered her name once he realized where he was. In return, she held onto him tight, believing at the time, that he needed and wanted her. Little did she know the past they had already shared due to her travel with the Time Turner, Hermione welcomed him with open arms, wanting desperately to be that person to him. Her mission had been completed.

The business day at the Ministry was a normal one. Low flying office memos soared into lifts, while news stands heckled their papers. The fountain, having been demolished by the epic battle between Voldemort and Dumbledore seven years earlier, had been restored and refinished to a new shine.

Weaving in and out of employees coming and going to work, along with guests meeting different departments, Hermione managed to locate her favorite kiosk where a nice older man with blue eyes always knew what she wanted. Offering him the sickles and looking around as she patiently waited for her hot beverage, her eyes caught someone directly down the hall from where she came. People passed between them blocking her view, but she noticed a man that looked a lot like the man she saw months ago at the secret park her friends had gone to play pick-up quidditch at.

The man with dark hair leaned against the wall turning the pages of the Daily Prophet. He glanced towards Hermione's way and for a second their eyes met. Hermione felt a pang deep inside her chest. She didn't feel unsettled, just curious to the man. There was something odd about him, something a little off, but still intriguing. After they glanced at each other for a third time, the man folded up his paper and started walking towards the commuting fire places.

Hermione thanked the older man for making her tea and set off to follow him, not sure what she would say to him if she were able to catch up in time. Visitors of the Ministry blocked her view as they looked around the magnificent hall, admiring the large hanging portrait of Minister Shacklebolt. She apologized as she pushed through them, barely keeping track of the man who was set on making it to the commuting fire places. She wanted to call out, try and get his attention, but before she was close enough to call out to him, he walked into a fireplace and disappeared.

0o0o0o0o00oo0o0o0o

Two bodies lay wrapped in high count bed sheets. The afternoon was still bright outside of the windows, but the sun's rays were beginning to turn a pink shade, indicating its initial decent onto the horizon. Hermione lay on her stomach, her bare back exposed as the sheets fell down just below her hips. Her hand rested on Sirius's handsome chest as her fingers absent-mindedly traced over his tattoos. They smiled to one another, basking in the afterglow of pleasing the other; their breath just now settling and their muscles relaxing.

"What was it like being in the Veil?" she asked in a quiet voice.

He sighed to himself, knowing that he would never deprive her of anything she wanted to know. "Dark." His eyes focused on the ceiling and he began to clear his mind to think back on the experience. "Timeless."

"Could you feel?"

"Yes," he said quietly, "and no." His chest rose and then fell with a patient long prepared breath, "I knew I was somewhere else. I had no sense of life anymore; no sense of breathing or emotion. I could move, but the longer I was there, the less I wanted to. When I first fell in, it was like being submerged underwater: you tried to kick around, reach for something, but there was always a current against you. Pretty soon, your drive to get away, or get out, began to lessen. You no longer felt compelled to get out or get anywhere and so you'd float. You didn't have to breathe, you couldn't hear, you definitely couldn't see, but you just waited. My arms began to lose any kind of strength, my legs were lifeless and my heart stopped beating." He heard her immediate intake of breath and turned to see the sorrow shadowed in her face. Silent tears slid down her cheek. She looked desperate, hurt and worried for him. "Occasionally, I would bump into another there with me, but the need or desire to feel was no longer there. Nothing could be said, nothing could be expressed, you just existed."

Hermione broke even more, her sobs becoming more apparent. She felt absolute pain for him and his loneliness. The idea of him being somewhere so out of touch was almost too much to fathom and she reached out to touch his beautiful face that looked upon her with deep grey eyes of love and passion that had lurked behind transparent walls for too long. He had died, twice, and she fought to bring him back both times.

Sirius rolled on his side, spooning his body close to hers and rolling her on her side so that he could couple with her body again, becoming one with their naked flesh. "Then one day, I was grabbed by something I actually felt and the magic began to flow through me, like something extended on the other side. I was lifted out of the muffled abyss and my senses returned to me. I could hear, I felt the ground beneath my feet and then I desired nothing but touch. I could barely open my eyes, for they needed to adjust again to natural light. I remember hearing a voice and then I recognized it as yours. I reached out for you and you embraced me. I felt the warmth coming back into my soul, weight falling into my muscles and I needed to learn how to breathe again." Sirius began leaving feather kisses against her eyelids and temples, "You brought me home."

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

A gathering at Harry's brought everyone together. The weather outside was still putting up a fight, having been one of the heaviest winters that England had seen in decades. Making the most of outdoor sports, the twins had enchanted a sled to pull itself up and down the hillside, until it capsized near the bottom of the slope.

It was Ron's turn next and he volunteered Hermione to join him on the sled. Making sure her jacket was closed tightly and her hands were positioned around Ron's waist, the two started to pick up speed over the first hill drop. Their laughter could be heard from the wizard spectators, but it was the pure exhilaration of being airborne on the second drop that erupted some unsteady cries. Hermione hid her eyes into Ron's back, not wanting to see where they were about to land, but being on an enchanted sled, their landing was much softer than to be expected.

Of course, once they landed, the sled turned itself over, dumping out its occupants and starting back up the hill to retrieve more thrill seekers.

"That was fun," Ron said, brushing himself of the excess snow. "Bet you didn't see that soft landing happening."

"No, I didn't. But, I should have known, it being a Weasley product and all." Hermione brushed herself in unison and started the hike back up to the house where they could properly warm up.

"Sirius not coming, then?" Ron asked, taking Hermione's hand as he started up the steep slope upwards.

"He is. Just getting here, later. He was a bit tied up at the Ministry, today. They called him in for an opinion on a couple that came up on my project. He's kind of an Ambassador for them, you could say." Hermione held Ron's hand tightly, careful of her steps through the untrusting snow.

"That's great that he can come in handy like that. And all because of the work you did, Hermione. Truly, it was a great thing you did. I couldn't have come up with a plan like that, but then again, this is you we're talking about," he said with a glance.

"Stop, Ron. I just focused on one thing for a friend and the plan pretty much developed on its own after that. I can't take all the credit for it."

Ron glanced down to where his and Hermione's hands were joined. Her gloved hands wound nicely within his, allowing her thumb to pass over his fingers from time to time. He wondered if it was some kind of residual habit.

"So, what is to become of you two now that you're sharing a house together?" Ron asked, clearing his throat and seeing the house more in view. Subconsciously, he slowed his steps.

"Ah, well," she stalled, "We're still getting settled into the house. I mean, we have totally gutted it since he lived there so long ago. It's virtually like a new house, compared to what he knew. I really loved it the way it was, but it was part of the compromise if we lived there. He wanted everything updated. Said he didn't want to look at the same walls from a lifetime ago."

"You mean when he was younger? Before the Potters were killed and he was with you?" Ron asked, pulling his hand away and stuffing it into his pockets. His choices of words were not as comforting as he thought.

"Yes. It conjures a lot of bad memories for him and I wanted to cleanse that if I could. Otherwise, all of it was fine really. I didn't mind it." Hermione took to dusting off residual snow out of habit, before approaching the house. The next pair, Ginny and Harry, were already attempting the enchanted sled and they whizzed by with jolly laugher.

"So, are you adjusting? To him, that is? I can only imagine how many hiccups you two are dealing with from the after effects of the Time Turner. I mean, aside from the generous age gap-"

"Ron, where are you going with this? Our age has nothing to do with anything. We're fine."

"That's all well and good, but what are your future plans with him, now that you're settled?"

She looked away, displaying sincere frustration from his constant prodding, "Life, Ron. Just life."

"Hermione, you're the smartest girl I've ever known. There is no way you're going along with this without a plan." Ron seemed to have genuine concern for his long time friend. Her voice didn't sound confident and he was calling her out on it.

"It's just free will. I'm happy. He's happy. Let's drop it."

Ron sighed and shook his head, "You're right, I'm sorry. I was just looking out for you. I feel like I should, so I am. Don't blame me for trying."

Hermione glanced over to him, but this time with a softened face. She appreciated what he was doing and knew that she was coming back a bit harsh. With a slight nod, she opened her arms and reached out to hug him. He welcomed her warmly, without a word further. They were just so familiar to one another.

Later that evening, Sirius and Hermione returned to their nearly finished house. The outside panels of the house had all been replaced, a new railing had been installed leading up to the front door and the handle of the dark wood had been polished nearly too new. Once entering the house, you got a much warmer feeling stepping over the threshold than you once did in its prime. The walls now had color and dressed on them were updated moving and unmoving photographs depicting their lives.

"You're troubled, love," Sirius said, removing his scarf and hanging it up on the hook awaiting his coat. He then turned and helped Hermione remove hers, "What is it?"

She sighed, "It's just, Ron." She freed herself of her coat and continued down the hall to the kitchen where she pulled down two glasses to ready for a bottle of wine. "I get so tired of his questioning."

"In what way?"

"He's compelled to inquire about us nearly every time he gets the chance. I understand how this might appear so sudden to him, but he's just not letting it go. It's beginning to become rather annoying," she concluded while uncorking the bottle.

Sirius took the bottle from her and took the liberty of filling both their glasses. With a routine toast, he sipped in thought and said, "He's protective of you. That's clear."

"Yes, but I'm really over all of what he's saying. He doesn't know me. He didn't know me well enough back then, so why now is he so keen to what I'm feeling?"

Sirius walked around their counter and took a seat on one of the bar stools across from her. He shook his head and as he leaned on his elbows, his glass dangling from his fingers, he peered up at her from beneath his long locks, "Perhaps what he is thinking, is that he can offer you more than I can."

"No-"

"He is closer to your age; you have a lifetime left with him-"

"I have a lifetime left with you. We've been round this and I don't care to discuss it further, Sirius." She sounded exhausted over the subject and started to retreat towards the stairs.

"You're leaving me? Just like that?" he asked with a sarcastic tone. A smirk grazed his lip, for he loved it when she was so easily frazzled.

"I'm going to draw a bath," she added as she stepped on the first stair and looked back. "Aren't you coming?"

His slight smirk broadened into a smile and with little convincing, he followed her up the stairs, taking the wine bottle with him.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

It was an overcast afternoon and a day that both Hermione and Sirius had decided to stay in. Small touches were being made and moving portraits were finding heir new arrangements on parlor walls. The kitchen had finally finished its complete overhaul, along with the bedrooms receiving the finer royal treatments that Sirius insisted they splurge on. Proof that his rich sense of taste came from being a Black.

"Now, keep your eyes closed!" Hermione said, her hands covering his eyes as she stood close behind him. Very carefully, she guided him through the hallway towards the back of the house.

"I really do not think this is necessary, love," he said, holding his arms out cautiously as he walked. As much as he loved feeling her warm body hugged close behind him, he still didn't have a lot of confidence in her direction. "I trust you, but I think you might find it funny to run me into the door."

She stifled a small laugh only to add, "I'm not going to run you into the door. Now, through here." She led him through the kitchen and out the backdoor to their garden. Positioning him centered on their deck, making sure he would get the best view to his surprise that sat about fifteen feet before him.

"You are going to be taking your clothes off, right?"

She ignored his question and continued, "Are you ready?"

"No."

"Alright, you can look!" she exclaimed, removing her hands from covering his eyes.

With low expectations, not believing that this witch could give him anything more than what he already wanted, he opened his eyes slowly. At first he contemplated what it was he was looking at, only to widen his eyes to the size of saucers. He rushed down the stairs, his hands outreached in disbelief as kept turning around to look at her and then his present.

There, displayed like a present on Christmas morning, was a 60's dual chrome Harley Davidson in decent condition sitting right in his back garden beneath an oak tree.

He was in awe for at least seven seconds, before he finally muttered, "Truly?"

She smiled ever so smug and followed him down the stairs and into the grass. "You have your work cut out for you. I wasn't going to make it easy and get you a new one."

Sirius circled around the bike, touching it in small areas to examine it carefully, mentally appraising it. He was amazed that Hermione had found such a jewel, sitting on its stand like a stallion waiting for a rider and in desperate need of a shine.

Quite pleased with herself that he was so elated over his gift, she hugged her arms around herself as his face lit up like a small child. She admired how handsome he was as he focused all his attentions on something he once cherished. Shadows of the younger man could be seen by the well-known eye, for it was as if he was given another piece of his forgotten life back.

He crouched down next to it in order to inspect the body parts closer, pushing his black locks behind his ear. Admiring his general form, memories flooded back to her of the way he used to be. A side of him was reflected in this bike and only she knew the way to it.

"The previous owner said it rides like a top, but it still needs a bit of extra attention in the right area. The seller rode it over here, with me on the back, and even I have to say it's pretty smooth, " Hermione explained.

Sirius looked up at her and for a moment he was the picture perfect younger version of himself kneeling there next to the motorbike. "But, I thought the bike always scared you."

"Not when I was on it with you," she smiled as he stood up and walked over to her. "The man I bought it from didn't give me the same sense of security that you did."

Wishing he could tell her how much this meant to him, he was short for words. His charm was the only thing that made it through, "Then, I suppose you've learned your lesson not to ride off with strangers?" She grinned. "The bike is our thing."

"Well, it's all your thing. I just like to be with you," she said, sliding her hands around his neck as he rested his on her waist.

"You know, you never did drive my motorcycle back then, after we made that wager in the maze," he said low and close, referring to the night of their first kiss.

"Perhaps, I really didn't want to win, after all?" she whispered back.

His eyes were intense. His angel stood before him, tightly wound to his body, he was eternally grateful for everything that she was. With one more whisper before a kiss, he said, "Thank you."

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

After a long grueling day finalizing the Ambassador program for the Returnees in the Department of Mysteries, Hermione ventured down into the main lobby of the Ministry of Magic. As she exited the elevators, after traveling at a perpendicular direction, she made her routine path towards her favorite coffee cart. Passing the hawking newspaper wizard, she read in flashing letters of the Daily Prophet headline: Bulgaria beats US! After picking up a copy, she stepped in line behind two others waiting to place their order to the wizard barista.

Her eyes peeked over the page and recognized the dark blue shirt in front of her. With black hair pulled in a ponytail at the nape of his neck and a certain grace about him that was clearly recognizable, she folded her paper under her arm and ran a hand up his back.

"Coming to surprise me, love?" she asked with a sultry voice, almost as an invitation.

The man turned around and looked upon his admirer with first a surprise, then a warm smile, "Sorry, I believe you're mistaken." She was met with a handsome face, but with brown eyes and darker features. It was not Sirius!

"Pardon me, sir! I'm ever so sorry, I thought you were...I'm so so sorry!" she said yanking her hand back and dropping her eyes to the floor, wishing she could sink into it.

The man smiled warmly and said, "No harm done, Miss. Though, I believe you just brightened my day with the slight thrill."

Hermione tried to smile, but her cheeks felt as hot as coals and she could barely meet his eyes as he spoke to her. Still, she didn't want to be rude and mustered enough strength to face him. Warm and friendly, meaning no ill, she recognized him as the man she had only seen a glimpse of when he was quick to disappear into a fireplace.

"Well, just for good measure, I'm sorry again," she added, taking in his appearance. She was pretty sure this was the same man.

"No worries. Allow me to buy your coffee. I'm sorry I wasn't who you had hoped. He must be a lucky gentleman," he finished, and before Hermione could object, he insisted on her not paying for her own coffee.

With not a second more, the man said good-bye and walked towards the fireplaces to leave, his java in hand. Hermione was left in slight awe of him, because she was so embarrassed. Still, in the back of her mind, there was something oddly familiar about him.

PERCHANCE TO DREAM Ch. 6: Building a New Foundation

2010-10-09T08:59:41Z

PERCHANCE TO DREAM
Ch. 6 : Building a New Foundation

Ch. 6 - "Building a new Foundation"

The leaves had all but fallen off nearly every tree in the neighborhood. Fall was coming to a close and winter was knocking on the door of number twelve Grimmauld Place. Soon would be the obligatory family gatherings and the enchanting decorations covering popular places in London. The muggles had an unhealthy obsession for all things small and twinkling.

A quiet dinner was had in the kitchen of Grimmauld Place. Tonks sat alongside of Remus, her assistance in the kitchen was not necessary, or so Hermione insisted that it wasn't. Hermione prepared a gorgeous turkey roasted with vegetables and potatoes and was just pouring the wine all around, leaving the aged bottle to Sirius's side.

"So, Sirius, I found something that I believe you'd be well suited for," Hermione began as she speared a carrot. "My department is looking for a liaison for those that came out of the Veil. It would be sort of an Ambassador role to represent those readjusting into society."

"Go on," he said encouraging her to continue.

"Well, I've taken to the paperwork aspect of all the research and I was thinking that things would be better represented if there was someone to speak on their behalf. I created the position and Minister Kingsley agreed to it. Told me that I should bring it up to you first, before posting it to the rest."

Sirius chuckled as he shook his head; his shoulder length hair falling into his sightline. He pushed around the greens on his plate and coupled them with a chunk of meat on his fork. "I never thought I would be one to work for the Ministry of Magic."

"That would be great, Padfoot," Remus supported, sipping from his glass. "Just think, you can tell the Ministry how you really feel and no one can debate it. You'd have the complete run, mate."

"Are you my superior?" Sirius baited, leaning on his elbow and winking to Hermione.

She gave him a friendly smirk and said, "No, her name is Isa McLure. I thought that if I took the position and you took the position, then it would be too much a conflict of interest."

The arrogant wizard with the black wavy locks shrugged his shoulders, not amused. He pursed his lips and was clearly thinking it over and weighing his options.

"It wouldn't be a particularly demanding job," Hermione continued, "for you only have to make appearances when there are queries about how some are adjusting and when to speak on their behalf. You would almost be able to make your own hours."

"That's not what he's worried about, Hermione," Remus added, tuning into Sirius's conflict. He had known his friend for far too long to not be able to read him as clearly as the front page of the Daily Prophet. "It's the fact that it's at the Ministry of Magic."

"Spot on, friend," Sirius nodded, amused that Remus had seen through him.

"I understand, and I won't be hurt if you didn't take it, honestly. I just wanted to try and persuade you into it, before the other candidates were considered. We've been missing quite a few lately. Some of our specimens haven't been checking in on a regular basis"

"Sweetheart, please tell your department not to call them specimens, its rude," he chuckled, tilting his head when her eyes widened with his mocking. "No wonder they're not checking in."

She shook her head, ignoring his comment, "I feel that some are not adjusting to the sudden change as well as others-"

"Or perhaps," Sirius interrupted, "they just don't wish to be found." His face soured at the idea that his kind was being studied so closely. "That was a very traumatic experience and it's sad to say that those that may have remained in there for a good amount of time may just wish not to be found again. There was no conversing amongst ourselves. We could barely see our hands in front of our face. Perhaps people chose to go beyond and then, all of a sudden, were plucked from their existence, forced to adjust to their returned life."

"What are you saying, Sirius?" Tonks finally spoke up, wondering if there was a hidden reason why the "charges" of the Ministry were not routinely checking in with their updates after returning. The study wasn't being flushed out as much as they had hoped and she knew that Hermione was struggling to make sense of it.

"I'm just saying it as clearly as I can imagine: perhaps some don't wish to be found. Perhaps there were some instances," Sirius rested his fork alongside his plate and ran a finger on the backside of Hermione's hand, "where people didn't have such special things to discover. Maybe they had nothing to lose and made that choice."

"A choice to go into the Veil? Like suicide?" Hermione asked as meek as a small child, as if the word itself was taboo.

Without bothering to shield her from the harsh reality, Sirius said hoarsely, "Something like that."

No one spoke as the mood changed to a more somber tone. Just the sound of light clinking and scrapes of cutlery on the plates filled the silence. Without a word, Sirius reached under the table and gently squeezed Hermione's thigh. They both shared a glance, promising that their story was an exception to everything he had said.

The holidays together were a particularly warm time. Grimmauld Place was full of life and energy. The large house was decorated from floor to floor, from portrait to chandelier. Tiny vines of holly were draped over each doorway, and mistletoe guarded each new room, insisting that its occupants share in the festivities. At least three different Christmas trees twinkled brightly: one in front of the window in the sitting room (that no one could see in), one in the small corner of the kitchen (as it seemed to be necessary for Headquarter meetings), and a rather hypnotic one with dark maroon and blue lights that seemed to slowly change for the mood sitting in the corner of Sirius's bedroom.

The extended friends and family came over for Christmas Eve to pass out adult presents as the youngest of the Weasley clan played quietly in the foyer. Father Christmas was going to be joining them at the Burrow, so it was planned that the early morning would be welcomed with a big breakfast. However, at the rate Ron, Sirius and Harry were going, Bloody Marys would be specially served.

Hermione returned from the kitchen with a tray of glasses for champagne hoping to toast the evening, but it seemed that some of the younger men were beyond drinking something that didn't set your tongue on fire after taking a shot.

With a shake of her head she set the tray down on a nearby table, after Sirius obliged her by taking a crystal stem of the bubbling spirit. He gave her a gentlemanly nod and toasted his glass with hers as they took the first sip together.

"At least you still have your wits about you, for the time being," she said glancing around the room and taking in the company backlit by various candles and whirling decorations.

"I haven't lost them, yet," he charmed.

His eyes were secretly devouring her with his heightened senses and whispered inebriated state. Taking mental picture after mental picture, he would never be able to capture the grace she held for him. As they stood close, he couldn't help himself not to trace his fingers along her jaw, forcing her to glance his way. She gave him a half smile and sipped her flute.

"So, I was thinking," he began, "with Harry and Ginny getting married, it won't be long until Remus and Tonks are next."

Her eyes settled on Remus, who was smiling pleasantly as he listened intently to Arthur telling a story. "I suppose you're right."

"I was thinking of giving them Grimmauld Place," he finished, sipping his champagne and licking the sweet dry taste from his lips. His eyes dropped down to admire the lift of her bosom beneath the red dress she wore.

"Is it yours to give?" she wondered.

"Yes, Harry turned everything back over to me when I came back. So, I own this house...again. I know Harry hasn't any issues getting into a new place, but thought it would be appropriate for Remus and Tonks to start their life here together."

"Well, there is plenty of room, no doubt about that. They can have their pick of the rooms and if they have children, they would have built in babysitters-"

"I meant, without us," he finished for her. He watched her features carefully, waiting for a sense of comprehension.

Hermione appeared slightly perplexed, but soon caught on, "But, where would we...you mean together?" He raised an eyebrow nervously, hoping she'd accept. "You want me to move in with you somewhere else? Just us?"

"Well, we are already living together, so why not just us someplace else?"

In seconds Hermione's drink was on the mantle and she was throwing her arms around his neck, kissing his rough cheek, "Yes, yes, yes, when?"

"I suppose we need to go and find a place, first."

"We could move to the country, or into the center of London, or...your old house! What about your old house? The one you used to have, number twenty-four?" Her voice, though quiet and private with him and undetected from eavesdroppers, was excited and hopeful.

"I...still have it. It's a bit of a wreck, love. Haven't been in it for nine years. It needs work," he hesitated, stalling and hoping she would want somewhere new, somewhere more her.

"No, I want that house. I loved that house and we can work on it together. Oh, Sirius, this is the best Christmas present ever," she said as she held onto him. She'd never felt so comfortable in her place.

"Right, now what's going on over there?" George said above the crowd. It seemed that further celebration was happening beyond their party of passing around the Fire Whiskey. All eyes turned towards the May-December couple who were standing wrapped as one.

With a mischievous grin, like he was truly up to an alternative plan, Sirius announced, "Hermione and I are shaking up!"

The room opened up to the warm laughter, sharing smiles and cheers all around, leaving Hermione in a blushing red mess amongst the mass. Their world seemed to be getting smaller as Sirius helped solidify their relationship before those that may have misunderstood it. Displaying affection or sharing whispers only held so much weight, but learning that it was their intention of sharing a household together truly justified their romance. An added celebratory toast was given by Remus, after receiving the news of the gift of Grimmauld Place.

Sirius was standing by the fireplace, gazing into the flames and reflecting on the turn his life had taken. No more dark times, no longer did he pine for the witch of his dreams and the days of having a prejudice pureblood family were gone. As his mind wandered, watching each flicker dance before him like a devil enchantress, he did not see Ron making his way towards him.

"I can't say that I'm alright with you and her," Ron managed to say, stumbling over a few syllables like he did steps. "But, if she's happy, I guess I can say good luck."

Sirius gave Ron a friendly smile. It was evident that his godson's best friend had still not come to terms with his relationship with his ex-girlfriend and friend. He watched the emotional struggle play over the ginger's face as he tried to extend a hand and took it sincerely.

Taking his hand more to help the young man balance, he replied, "I don't expect anyone to take us easy, mate. But, I have no intention of hurting her."

Ron nodded, shaking his head to steady himself as it was apparent the effects of Fire whisky were taking its toll on him. He blinked a few times, trying to focus on Sirius and said, "Right, me either!"

"Glad we have that sorted," Sirius added, still shaking Ron's hand.

"So, if you two choose to carry on and copulate," Ron said, finally letting go of Sirius's hand, "then who am I to interrupt. Unless, she wants me to interrupt. Has she said anything about me?"

Sirius watched Ron swaying where he stood, wondering if he even realized what he was asking aloud. Still, he couldn't help himself, "You mean when we copulate? No, she hasn't mentioned you while we do that."

Ron's face crinkled, unhappy with the answer he received, "Oh well, right. I guess good luck."

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Sirius and Hermione were strolling down a familiar street that had rows of regal fences lining their property. The sidewalk was wide, wider than other neighborhoods, but the streets were still very narrow considering that two cars were supposed to drive in opposite directions. The street signs had been updated, the neighbors nearby had painted the enormous shutters accenting the windows and a tree swing had been added to the large oak that grew directly across from the house Hermione and Sirius were looking at.

"Now, if you don't like it, we can find someplace else," Sirius said as they walked closer. His face looked sour as he took in the rusty gate and overgrown branches covering the view of the house. "I'm not as attached to it as you may think. In fact, a change wouldn't be that bad-"

"Are you kidding? Honey, I loved this house!" she said squeezing his hand and leaning a head against his shoulder. The house was coming well into view with its ornate iron gates and intricate details engraved in the metal that swirled around in a medieval style.

"I haven't been here in nearly nine years. It was dusty then, it's going to be dusty now. I considered hiding in it for awhile, but suspected the neighbors might notice something wrong." Sirius glanced over to his pretty young witch, offering her the opportunity to change her mind if she wasn't happy.

"Do you not want to move in here again, Sirius? Is that why you're trying to sway me?" she asked sweetly.

"I could care less where we lived. I just want you to have what you want," he said offering her a handsome smile.

Sirius took his wand from the inside of his jacket and whispered the unlocking incantation against the tall intimidating iron gate. Like hearing a familiar friend, the gate clinked and chimed, uncoiling its chain like a snake and opening slowly with a screeching rusty sound that demanded to be oiled.

"Now that we've announced to the neighborhood that I'm home," Sirius said with a light chuckle, "that should be the first thing I take care of."

They passed over the threshold and through the gate that was protecting the large house. It was hidden beyond large trees and overgrown bushes that shadowed the house, making it appear darker in broad overcast daylight. It looked like a scene from a Halloween movie with its broken branches and dilapidated state. The front steps were broken, the railings leading to the front door were only half there and the front door appeared weathered and abused.

Still, Hermione smiled and looked past all its imperfections, seeing the house to be just as charming and inviting as it once was the first time she visited. The butterflies welled up inside of her, seeing the enormous structure through different eyes now. When she first visited the house, she was full of guilt and anxiety, but now it stood as a beacon of promise and hope for the two of them.

Sirius was captivated with the way Hermione gazed up at the house, approaching it like a child seeing Hogwarts for the first time. She couldn't be more beautiful to him, for her face was brightened by the sheer prospect of making this her new home.

"You haven't seen the inside, yet," he sighed under his breath. He did not want her to be disappointed.

As they took a few steps towards the front door, Hermione stopped abruptly and froze, looking at the ground. She seemed to be in a trance for a few seconds, before she squeezed Sirius's hand tighter. She looked up at him, then around at the way the grass had grown over the once neatly trimmed lawn.

"What is it, love?" he whispered, concerned with her immediate change.

"This is where you left me that night," she started. She pointed to a place in the grass and finished, "you were on your motorbike just there. It was raining that night and I remember how badly I wanted to tell you to stay." Sirius frowned and rested a hand on her cheek to soothe her. "I was so worried about what was going to happen to you."

He pulled her into a protective hug, leaving a kiss on her head, "I hated leaving you that night, but I had to go and check on, Peter. I think I knew deep down, you weren't going to be there when I returned."

Hermione clung to him, her face pressed tightly against his chest, taking in the serene scent of his cologne. His strong arms held her tight and she felt him pressing his lips to her head. He murmured how he loved her for what she did. With a subtle gesture, he helped turn her around back to the house and together they approached the front door.

Sirius pointed his wand to the tarnished door handle and tapped it three times as he murmured an incantation. Then, preparing for the worst, he glanced once to his witch and then to the handle of the door. With a mutual smile and nod, he held his breath and pushed the door open before them.

Showing him that she harbored no fear in entering, she stepped over the threshold first. Letting go of his hand, her eyes took in the dusty entrance, looking about the foyer as if she were stepping back in time. What had only been a few months to her, had been years for time since this house had been vacated. Her memory of following Sirius to the door as he rushed out to check on Peter flooded her to the very core. She could almost hear his rushed footsteps on the hard wood floor.

The parlor on the right beyond the archway still had the furniture positioned the same way, though now they appeared dusty and worn from years of neglect. The curtains were closed, just as she had pulled them before they went to bed on that fateful night, but evidently infested with doxies by the slight movement beneath the folds. The portraits on the walls had awoken from a long slumber (including the one of a sleeping Harry and a scared Regulus) and the old wooden floors groaned their distress as they stepped in, having settled for several years.

Sirius was just behind Hermione, but his eyes were not on the house, they were on her. He watched with admiring eyes as she stepped through freely, taking no notice to the dust, the mess or the tattered appearance of the walls and railings of the staircase. She was mesmerized by an unseen magic that it never occurred to him how happy she truly was by getting back into the house he used to live in when they were together the first time. As if weightless, she drifted further inside, flashing a sweet grin as she glanced over her shoulder. She carried on like an angel with peaceful wings towards the kitchen where upon disappearing around the corner, she peeked back to make sure he was following.

"I'm right here. I'm not running away, yet," he chuckled as he closed the door behind him. He casually slid his hands into his pockets and slowly surveyed the forsaken home, making mental notes of what needed to be repaired, replaced and renewed.

When Sirius was younger, he thrived on making his house as "Muggled" as possible, but what was once a contemporary look was now outdated and just tacky. The kitchen was hideous to modern eyes, even by magical ones, for the decor was ghastly with retro designs even on the dishes. The glasses and pottery were immediately to be replaced, along with the outdated appliances that appeared rusted having not been used for a very long time.

Against the wall, the wet bar was in the same place as she remembered, but it appeared as if it had been raided for anything left behind inside of it. Empty bottles, some broken, lay scattered around the old hutch with a mesh front. Her brow furrowed as she looked around the rest of the kitchen, afraid that an intruder had indeed broken in and she was looking for further disarray. After a few more spins in one place, she deduced that aside from the dusty mess it was the only area truly disturbed.

The sound of Sirius's booted steps turned the corner into the kitchen, followed by a long winded whistle as he appraised the future food quarters. He shook his head, disgusted by his old taste in kitchen decor. As he took in the room around him, he immediately fell into concern as he caught the worried look on Hermione's face. When she gestured to the broken bottles around the bar, he sighed and shook his head acknowledging the damage. Like someone had pulled a string out of him that was keeping him straight backed and proud, he slouched as he revisited a bad time in that house. With a silent nod, he made his way around the counter and took a seat on a dusty stool.

"I did end up staying here a few nights those nine years ago, after we lost Peter...and I found you," he said as he folded his hands in front of him. His voice was low and sincere; painful even.

Hermione heard the woe in his voice; a reminder of the man he once was and a life he used to live. She thought to herself how she used to see him as a kind man and good to Harry with dark stories to tell, when the reversed side was him meeting his past love when she was only thirteen. How traumatic that must have been for him to have everything fall into place in a matter of moments, she thought. How lonely a life he had lived and only now in his late thirties was he beginning to feel like he truly belonged again.

Hermione felt her heart pull for him, wishing that her very touch would sooth him, but he harbored his dark memories. With slow timid steps, she went around to him and hung her arms around his neck, resting her head on his shoulder. She kissed him sweetly against his ear, whispering her apologies.

With a quiet voice she said, "I love who you are, Sirius. You fascinate me." He gave her a half smile and rubbed the arm that was draped across his neck. "I'm never letting you go. Not even if you ran through the Veil, again. I would come for you."

A few moments passed and they enjoyed the silence, listening to the house settle around them, creaking its ailments and necessary repairs. Finally, Sirius swiveled around on his stool, pulling Hermione into his arms so that they could look at the house together.

"So, you really want to stay here? In this dusty old shack?" he whispered, breathing in her aura that smelled of lilac and jasmine. He loved the way her soft curls felt around his face as he rested his chin on her shoulder; his arms hugging her close.

"Yes, with only minor changes. A good clean, some new paint, slight redecorating - if that's okay with you, of course," she said, turning around to see his face.

"You can do whatever you want, love. It's your house. I'm just along for the ride and I'll trust anything you want to do," he admitted, giving her carte blanche. His happiness was her happiness.

"I'm glad you said that, because as much as that fur rug in front of the fire has sentimental significance, it has to go."

"Oh, if that rug could talk-" he chuckled, purring against the side of her neck.

"And that's why it's going!" she confirmed, knowing full well she wasn't the first girl to be taken while lying there.

Almost a half hour later, Hermione was buzzing around on the second floor, her mind racing through different ideas with what to do with the extra three rooms that Sirius had only used as storage, other than the one room with the girlie wardrobe. She ventured through the house, wand at the ready, looking in closets and behind mysterious doors coming upon interesting artifacts from Sirius's groovy past.

The older wizard was down outside, standing in the street and looking up at the structure from a carpenter's point of view. He surveyed the damage the years had caused passing through the elements as well as obvious neglect from it being a magical house in a muggle neighborhood. Sirius watched the shading around the house, noticing where the tree limbs hung low near the roof and thinking of how much work he would have to do in order to clear the extra branches. He also thought about the front gates where wild vines had grown along the iron gate, giving an extra bit of privacy. Something he favored, but was unsure what Hermione's take on it was. He imagined buying something of a sports car and parking it close to the house, something not too flashy, but something Hermione wouldn't mind driving from time to time. Something very muggle.

As he stood outside, he glanced down the street where a few neighbors were outside checking their mail or just enjoying the brisk air that particular January day. In the nearby distance, he heard a neighborhood dog barking, announcing its presence or trying to frighten off an unwanted guest. Overall, it was peaceful and serene and for the first time in his life, Sirius felt very warm in his surroundings and hopeful for the future.

"Hello, there," said a voice to Sirius's left. Glancing over, he saw a man, a muggle no doubt, wearing a blue polo shirt and pair of khaki pants with a friendly smile as he joined Sirius in the middle of the street.

"Jim," he said extending his hand for a proper greeting. "I live in the next house there, the green one."

"Sirius, good to meet you," he said as he shook the man's hand.

"Considering moving into the house there? Number twenty-four?" the man asked, relating to Sirius at a common level as he looked up at the evergreen house hidden behind intimidating tree branches. He reminded Sirius of Arthur Weasley with his excessive friendliness.

"Yes, that is the plan."

"Good to hear it. No one has been in it for years. I never noticed a for sale sign out front, but no one came around to check on it, either. Kind of a mystery, really," Jim said, explaining what he knew. Meanwhile, Hermione was just peeking outside the great gate and giving him a wave. She apparently was outside surveying the grounds on the other side of the yard.

"Yes, I'm sure it has been. It's been in the family for a few years, you could say," Sirius smiled to his young witch.

"Really? There was a young guy living there, ages ago. Rode a motorcycle, quiet, except for the motorcycle."

"Yes, that was...me."

"Oh, sorry, mate. Didn't recognize you. Then again, we never officially met, did we?"

"No, sorry about that. I've been away for awhile, abroad and traveling you could say. Left the house and just getting back to it now," Sirius explained as plainly as he could.

"Wow. That must have been one hell of a trip, then. It's been what...?" Jim started to think.

"Too long to count," Sirius replied dry and almost dismal. The thought of how much time he'd missed left a strong pang in his heart. The only saving grace was that he was frozen, unable to age, unable to think, for a good five years of them.

"Yeah, I guess that's about right. Is that your wife?"

"Ah, no," he returned, somewhat curious to why his long time neighbor was so inquisitive, but just put it off to "new neighbor chat" that was pretty normal. "She's more than that. She saved my life."

"Well, whatever it is mate, looks like she's ready to turn your house upside down. She's along the side here, pulling weeds already with a small tiny stick." Jim pointed to the area of the house that they could both see from the street when the iron gate was open and Hermione was, indeed, playing in the weeds.

"If you'll excuse me, she's not much of a gardener," Sirius said, shaking his head and offering his neighbor a smile. He waved to the man and walked back through the gate, closing it partially behind him to shield him from curious eyes.

Sirius approached the woman with a mission. With her hair pulled back in a messy bun, she knelt on her knees in a praying manner before a patch of wild weeds growing up along the side of the house. She aimed her wand at the suffocating vines that lay against the wood, quietly whispering an incantation that forced the plant to wither away in her hands. Once satisfied with the result, she continued to dig deeper, pawing around the prettier vines to get to the nasty appearing ones.

"Sweetheart, what are you doing? The man I was talking to could see your wand," he said, his arms folding across his chest with a serious side smirk over his lips. His darker side began to creep out as he took note of her appropriate height as she knelt on her knees. He managed to play off his chuckle as a cough.

"Oh, well, I was just pointing it really, nothing too obvious, " she said, shoving her wand back into her pocket and pulling with all her might on a long vine with pointy green leaves.

"Do I dare ask what you're doing? Because, it looks incredibly tiresome and I know I'm going to be a right tosser when I don't help, so just to save face, explain part of the manual weeding you're doing." Sirius stood firm, cocking his head to the side to survey her unnecessary work.

"I'm testing the strange plants growing along the fence. Just making sure that they're not poisonous for when we have kids. These are precautions we have to take," she said, still very focused on the plants like they were a diligent challenge, but not noticing the smirk wipe clean off his face.

PERCHANCE TO DREAM Ch. 5: The Outing

2010-08-23T13:23:32Z

Title: PERCHANCE TO DREAM (sequel to Reason For Life)
Chapter: 5 "The Outing"
Ship: Sirius/Hermione
Summary: Sirius and Hermione are just settling into new, but old habits. They're adjusting to the changes between themselves, around others, in their relationship and where to go from here. Sirius has lived an entire life without Hermione and for her, she's just picked up a few days later. Through the thickness, Sirius only wants what is best for Hermione in all future aspects in her life. To Hermione, she'll take Sirius in whatever shape or form he is willing to give her. But, is it selfishness or love that turns them around? Sirius makes a choice and Hermione has to pick up the pieces....but, she's never going to be alone.

Ch. 5

"The Outing"

"Hermione, we have to leave in ten minutes! I know you want to make a scene, but being late to a wedding is not the way to do it. Especially when it's the Lovegood family," Sirius said, coming out of his bedroom and draping his light grey tie loosely around his neck. He was fastening his cuff links onto his maroon colored shirt when Hermione stepped out of her bedroom (that only kept her wardrobe). He let out a rather loud wolf whistle at the sight of her.

She was putting earrings on when she walked his way wearing an elegant halter knees-length grey dress to match the color of his tie. She had peep-toe heels and modest pearl jewelry to accent it. Her hair was swept up on the sides, while the ends were delicately curled to fall romantically down her back.

"I don't want to make a scene, Sirius. You should know that about me, by now," she chided, stepping past him and into his room where she went to her hand bag that sat on his dresser.

"You look positively radiant, sweetheart," he said coming alongside of her to look in the mirror to begin his tie. After glancing a little too long at the way her dress exposed her creamy soft shoulders, he turned to her with both ends of his tie extended defeated. She immediately stopped what she was doing to perfect a knot for him. "Are you ready for this?" he asked with a low crooning voice.

"It's just a wedding. Lots of friends go to weddings together," she said with a sing song voice, trying to justify their appearance together. She was pretending not to think of it as their first official outing to everyone after two weeks "courting", as Sirius referred to it as.

"Yes, but we're matching, love. Friends attending weddings together do not normally match their ties to their date's dress. We're going to stroll in there, not late, holding hands and letting others begin their copious gossip." Sirius spoke to her, but she appeared to be too concentrated on perfecting his tie. He gagged when she pulled a little too tight. "I, however, do not care what anyone says."

"That'll do," she said, tilting her head as she appraised her tie knotting skills. "I don't care, either," she denied, smoothing his tie for the fourth time.

"I think its good, love." She wanted him to look perfect, but she didn't need to try very hard. He was already a sight. His stressed and prematurely lined appearance warmed him to a new health, now that he was rested and in love. He secretly cherished the way she doted on him, making any and every excuse to touch him. Sirius was a whore for her soft touches.

"I was a little bit worried with Molly, but I think Remus smoothed it out already," she added, turning to face the mirror and adjusting her dress. "Also, you have to promise me something."

"Sweetheart, I'll promise you the world," he said, wrapping his arms around her waist from behind. He pressed his lips against the pale exposed spot on her neck that was always a sure thing to make her swoon.

She was keen on his tricks and turned around on the spot, pressing herself against him and stopping him from furthering his affections. With a sweet coy smile, she looked up, "You have to promise me you'll demonstrate your fancy dance moves out there with me. If you don't dance with me at that wedding, leaving me to sit at a table with Ron's Aunt Muriel-"

"Muriel is still alive? Merlin's Beard, she was at weddings when I was a kid. That bird refuses to die!"

Hermione pursed her lips, annoyed that he'd changed the subject, "I said if you don't dance with me, I will make Remus tell everyone about your secret Sunday nights."

He smiled and kissed her forehead, "Of course I'll dance with you. I could sing to you as well-"

"That won't be necessary. I've heard you sing after several shots of Fire whisky before. You and James thought you could carry a tune, but I hate to inform you that your mother howled better than you did."

The location of the wedding was well camouflaged to unsuspecting muggles. It was in a muggle school's gymnasium that they hired for the day, under the reservations that it was for a family reunion. Walking into the school yard, it was quaint, not like wizarding schools that were much more elaborate for what they contained; this school was more modern than the norm.

The signs along the pathway announced a reunion, but at a second glance to magical eyes, it changed to "Lovegood/Scamander Wedding" in flashing letters and then quick it changed to a different sort of writing, using pictures to depict directions. The couple walked along the open hallways and temporary buildings where finally they knew they were going in the right direction by the sounds erupting from a stand alone building just a little further. Standing at the doorway, like two regal comedic guards holding oddly shaped staffs, were two men wearing canary yellow robes.

"What a terrible color to be wearing," Sirius said under his breath as he reached into the pocket inside his robe. His free arm remained bent for Hermione to hold onto.

Hermione shushed him as they got closer to the wizards waiting to be greeted, "Luna and her father believe that wearing the color reflecting the sun is to wish bright beginnings."

"It's ghastly," he whispered as the usher bowed to them and accepted the invitation Sirius held out to check. "Hello!" Sirius pulled on the charm in one click.

The usher smiled to them both, accepting the invitation and seeing the name reflected on the outside. The young wizard looked up and smiled, obviously tickled to be handling them. "Ah, Miss Granger and Mr. Black, welcome. Come, I'll show you to your seats. I believe Harry Potter has already arrived."

Hermione took a deep breath, holding tightly to Sirius's arm, and followed the usher into the gymnasium. As they followed behind, Sirius lifted her hand to his lips.

The room had been completely transformed, displaying the colors of yellow and white everywhere. The roof had been opened and though it was overcast outside, the ceiling revealed a brilliant bright sun that you were able to look directly into. There were rows of white chairs shimmering with specks of yellow like they were bouncing off the sun's rays. Down the center aisle they walked upon a pale blue carpet, complete with slow moving clouds with each step.

To the rear of the room, there was a bar already open for guests to partake in fruity cocktails or champagne before the ceremony. White doves flew above their heads creating a romantic atmosphere, but some anxious guests that sat below the flying birds were disappointed that they didn't wear their hats. Several hoods on cloaks came up over fancy hair-dos.

Sirius walked down the aisle proud, his young witch clinging to his side like they were out in the middle of the ocean surrounded by hungry sharks. When they had reached Harry's row, along with Ginny and Ron, they were met with a warm smile and friendly green eyes from the scarred one. Sirius caught the slight nod from his godson once his date was acknowledged.

Hermione stepped inside the aisle first, smoothing out the bottom of her dress before sitting down next to Harry. Ginny sat next to him and beyond her was Ron, who was picking at his own robes for lack of something better to do. There was a sense of boredom about him, like he would have preferred to be anywhere, but there.

Before taking his own seat, he leaned down to Hermione, placing a finger to the side of her cheek, "Hermione, can I get you a drink?"

She looked up at him, trying to refrain from gazing too long, but still aware of the possible on-lookers surrounding them. She gave a slight nod and watched him leave, after he checked on her friends to her left.

Hermione folded her hands in her lap delicately, smoothing out the skirt of her dress over and over again. Her cheeks warmed, for in her peripheral vision, she could see Harry looking at her with a slight grin becoming wider and wider, the more she ignored him. She was absolutely elated that he was as pleased as he appeared and could do nothing to hide her blushing cheeks. She looked around everywhere, trying not to pay attention to the two sets of eyes on her that she actually cared about. The other sets of eyes that may or may not have noticed she just came in escorted by Sirius she paid no attention to.

"Well," Harry just let out, his smile so wide you'd think he could hold it no longer.

Hermione just licked her lips and shook her head, "I'm not talking about anything at the moment." She tried her hardest to hide her inner smile, for deep down, she was glowing.

Ginny chuckled and sat back in her seat, looking straight ahead, "I'll get it out of her later."

Hermione cleared her throat, not bothering to deny the gossip to her female friend and looked around to take in her surrounds. Immediately, she saw something coming her way and her instincts forced her to duck as a low flying dove nearly nicked them.

"They're trained, don't worry," Ginny said, leaning in past Harry, again. "Although, don't tell Aunt Muriel. It's too funny to watch her holding an open umbrella over her head. Fred and George convinced her to hold it upside down for extra assurance."

"What do you reckon Luna will be wearing?" Ron asked, surveying the bright garden decor with live butterflies the size of quaffles floating delicately nearby. "A sunflower dress that will have magic rays coming out her-"

"Ron, stop! Try to behave," Ginny chided. "She was so pleased to have all of us RSVP for her wedding. Try to show a little couth."

"Here you go, love," Sirius said, presenting her with a tall flute and a wink. He slid into the seat next to Hermione, toasting her and taking a sip from his own glass. He licked his lips, took a deep breath and looked around the room asking, "Alright, who's betting the girl will be wearing sparkling sunshine petals?"

"Sirius-" Hermione snapped, while both Ron and Harry chuckled under her breath like school boys as he was berated. She rolled her eyes, sometimes wondering if she really was dating an older man.

"You're next, mate," Ron chuckled, punching Harry in the arm.

"Still at least six more months to plan," Ginny carried on. "Mum is doing a lot of work and getting married after I finish my studies is still the best plan. I'll get with you later, Hermione, about the smaller details we still need to handle."

Hermione nodded, acknowledging her position as Maid-of-Honor. She looked about the room wildly, wondering how Harry and Ginny's wedding was going to look, compared to this elaborate show. The small details were the most important and doing what her two friends wanted was incredibly exciting. Her thoughts came to herself and with a slight glance to the handsome man next to her, who was currently looking straight up at the doves that circled overhead with a particular interest.

"Don't chase them," Hermione whispered as she leaned in, patting his leg.

Shaking himself out of it, he nodded, "Right."

The ceremony commenced with minimal surprises, however the men were half right in guessing Luna's gown would add some sort of strange normalcy to the event. Her dress was simple white, off the shoulder, but the train was comprised of long yellow fabric with real daisies fastened to it. As she walked the flowers' petals would fall in perfect step with her leaving a trail of her own.

Hermione sat on the edge of her seat with a tissue clutched in her hand as she watched the two repeat vows. Harry showed no expression as he held a quietly sobbing Ginny's hand, while Ron was still keeping a wary eye on a nearby butterfly that he swore had devoured an entire row of shrubbery.

Sirius sat back comfortably in his seat, his arm around the back of Hermione's chair, slowly drawing circles on her shoulder with his thumb. He smiled as the wedding two fumbled over their lines. His eyes traveled over a few guests that were captivated by the couple in the front, but managed to catch the eye of a few people who would quickly turn their head once he made contact with them. It was clear that they were curious about the former Azkaban resident. Even more so when he noticed a couple of women to his immediate right, probably about Tonks's age, grinning wildly when he caught them looking at him. He smiled back, moving a hand to Hermione's leg, patting her gently as she remained mesmerized by the couple and their unity.

His lingering smile fell into a smirk and then into a slight grimace. He wondered if she was imagining their future and where they were going to be in a few years. Did she imagine the two of them standing up there in front of all these guests, watching them the way she was watching them? He couldn't think about any of that, he just got her back. They were still adjusting.

Hermione shifted back in her seat, leaning against her wizard and resting her chin on his shoulder, watching the couple with approving eyes. Without a second thought, Sirius turned his head to kiss her forehead, allowing his lips to linger longer against her skin, before turning to watch the couple with her. He paid no attention to anyone should they be watching. He was happy.

As the guests were requested to mill about the room, partaking in refreshments before the dinner was served; the room was transformed into an indoor English garden, complete with small creek running through the hall. Larger than normal birds and pretty insects feasted on the flowers, making the guests feel like they were more than one with nature. The tables fluttered down from above, transfiguring from the flying doves overhead and covered in yellow and white striped table clothes with full settings. Guests were allowed to sit where they liked, and the normal crew joined at a table together, now with Remus and Tonks who snuck in the back during the ceremony. Molly and Arthur were a table away, along with more of their family and several Order members.

After dinner was served and the dancing commenced, Sirius squeezed Hermione's hand under the table. He excused himself for a few moments and went to walk off with Bill and Charlie.

The remaining guests at the table, and extras, made short conversations about other things: work, the Minister Shacklebolt, the latest bills passed, current muggle films and the latest tally on dark wizards caught still harboring magical artifacts that had been banned for several years now. Ron, on the other hand, had finally put two and two together, nearly two hours later and finally spoke up about the obvious in a not-so subtle manner.

Her ginger friend and ex-boyfriend leaned across the table, his unusually steaming drink in his hand nearly spilling over, he asked in a stage whisper, "Hermione, did you come here with Sirius?"

"Yes, I did. Its fine, Ronald," Hermione said while taking the last bite of her wedding cake that was served to her. It had speckled blueberry frosting.

"Just as friends, right?" he pressed, his volume getting louder and into normal conversation.

"No, not just as friends," she admitted. Though she once loved him and he still remained one of her best friends, she hated that he really was thick sometimes.

"What do you mean, not just as friends? You two are actually on a date together?"

She sighed, shaking her head and looking at him with sad pitiful eyes. She was exhausted with trying to explain herself to him.

"Harry, did you know this? Did you know that they were going to come to the wedding together?" Ron asked, looking for an ally.

"I'm not surprised. I see the way they look at each other."

"Why am I just noticing this, now?"

Ginny perked up, "Because you're blind. Haven't you noticed them talking and holding hands this entire time?"

"No! They were holding hands? That's...that's...Harry, how can you be okay with this?" Ron asked. His face was flushed and his drink was sloshing over onto the table cloth. "Hermione, he's like our-"

"No, he's not like our dad! You wouldn't understand Ron and I'm not asking you to. Let's just leave it alone," she said, seeing Sirius returning from wherever he disappeared to. Her face brightened at the sight of him.

Sirius approached the table a bit timidly, noticing the disgusted look on Ron's face. There was nothing that needed to be said; it was obvious by the look on Hermione's face that it was about them. He looked at Harry, then glance to Ron who seemed to have a problem with meeting his eyes, as if he were embarrassed by the situation for them.

Instead, he leaned in behind Hermione taking her hand, "It's time, love." He helped her out of her chair, and led her out towards the dance floor. With a glance over his shoulder, he couldn't help but catch Ron's seething glare.

He took her to the center, keeping her hand tight in his hold and parading her like she were the princess of the ball. He was very to have on his arm, like he were finally getting the redemption he deserved. Being locked away on wrongful charges forever tainted his name, but displaying his witch proudly next to him was a beacon of trust and fruition. Though never afraid to show his face in public, he was trying very hard to change his name from the racist pureblood reputation, into a new era.

She made his heart dance as he pulled her in close, placing a hand possessively on her waist and taking her other delicately into his palm. Though they were a generation apart to the outside world, she was exactly what he needed, because she had been what he wanted all along.

"I take it Ron isn't happy with us," Sirius asked quietly next to her ear. He was taking in her pleasant floral scent, closing his eyes just slightly as he allowed the music to lead him.

"Ron will be fine. I'm not worried about him," she said, her smile fading. All of a sudden she felt like more and more people were noticing the two of them swaying between their fellow dancers. How odd they must have looked to those that knew them, a surprise no less. The sound of Sirius's voice brought her back.

"But, he's worried. Why?"

"I think it's the age difference."

"No, it's not," he shook his head as he glanced beyond her towards Ron. With a slight tilt of his head, he was trying to read the young wizard sitting next to his godson. "He's jealous, that's all."

"Jealous? But, it was a mutual split," she advised, letting him spin her around on her toes in order to pull her in closer. The two seemed to be fading into their own world, where no one was allowed. Being with him truly made her feel complete.

"He lost you and now he sees you with me. Ron's a nice kid really and even though I'm partial, your dating him was not well suited in my opinion. I would have rather you hooked up with Harry-"

"That wouldn't be weird for you, or anything."

He nodded, "Maybe a little, as I probably would have tried to intervene in some way in your youth. Harry would have at least been a step up."

She smiled, shaking her head and resting her head against his chest. The fabric of his robes felt soft against her cheek. "Careful now, Ron is still one of my best friends."

Sirius chuckled, kissing the top of her head. His hand rested against the small of their back as she leaned against him, pressing just slightly. She was so light to spin around; it was good that he was able to teach her a few steps in his youth on those memorable Sunday nights at his cousin Andromeda's. The intimacy paid off.

"Although," she started again, lifting her face towards him to keep her comment private, "he does kiss like a lizard."

As he glanced down with a slight smirk to his young witch, admiring the way her eyes nearly twinkled under the low lighting, he couldn't help himself as he teased her with their taboo, "Care to learn from the master, young lady?"

"With arrogance like that, how can I say no?" she flirted, biting her lip as he sunk closer.

He was hesitant, but only for a second. He knew that their secret would be out in a matter of moments, for once he kissed her right there on the dance floor with all to see, the gossip would start. Maybe it was just his imagination that people were watching them closely, but perhaps it was just that sudden twinge of guilt that he was thirty-nine and she only twenty-two. He'd lived a dark life after meeting her and hers was only just beginning. At a ceremony celebrating unity, why now was he having doubts?

Fuck it! He thought to himself.

The rowdy bunch left the reception and emptied into a night of fast moving clouds and gusty winds. Their sunshine day had turned sour and it was a last minute decision to have everyone over to Grimmauld Place for some after party spirits. Ginny was only in town for a few short days away from University, so the girls wanted to make the most out of wedding planning.

In the large kitchen with the long wooden table in the center, Hermione and Ginny stood in the farthest corner, making plans and doing dishes left over from left over desserts. Remus, Sirius, Harry, Ron, Fred, George and Charlie sat around the long table discussing the latest front page noteworthy news of the Chudley Cannons. Between severe heated verbal battles of bad plays and poor showmanship, Hermione glanced over her shoulder to see the family of gingers and friends. She curled her toes as her eyes immediately fell on her ruggedly handsome wizard with the bark-like laugh as he pushed off the table and balanced on two of his chair legs.

Noticing that she no longer held Hermione's attention, she leaned in as she sipped from her wine glass, "So, you two are really doing it, huh?"

Hermione quickly snapped her head to her friend while slightly blushing, "Ginny!"

It was the first time the witch was able to speak to her about it without anyone listening in. Ginny shrugged her shoulders and licked her lips nonchalantly, "What? I was only referring to the fact that you two showed everyone its legit. Harry had talked about it - wanting Sirius to really talk to you. But, if you're blushing because the real reason is that you two are already doing it, than we need to cut to the chase and be honest with me."

Hermione smirked and turn around, ignoring her friend. She picked up the enchanted scrubber and began working on the small plates with left over pie bits on them herself. The water splashed a little on the counter and she was quick to pick up a towel to dry the area off for lack of something busier to do. She avoided Ginny's eyes as the banter went on behind them at the table none the wiser.

"You are! Hermione, you held out on me?" Ginny pried, "I'm hurt."

Finally, she threw down the towel defeated, "Ginny, I wish I could tell you everything, but Sirius and I...we're..."

"You know Ron is boiling, right? It's killing him, because he really likes, Sirius. If you just tell me you two are friends with perks, than I don't think I would be able to respect him, anymore. You, sure, go Hermione! But, him, eh, I could see he was a player back in his day." Ginny glanced over to the table and tilted her head to give Sirius a once over. She let out a big sigh and shook her head, "I can see it."

Hermione shook her head, looking down at the soapy water in the sink. "No, it's not like that. We're...we're in love."

Like a light was slowly turning on within Ginny, her smile widened and her eyes brightened. Soon, she was beaming, "Perfect. Harry and I are so happy for you. Sad that you and Ron didn't end up, I'll admit I am partial, but you are the thing Sirius needs. He's just," she glanced towards the men at the table again, "What are you doing?"

"Shut up, Ginny! We're settling a bet!" Charlie spat, his face already turning a stressed crimson as he gripped the table for extra support. He and Sirius had their hands locked tight, their elbows flat on the wooden table and they were arm wrestling with every ounce of strength they could muster. The men around them were calling jeers and insults, throwing down a galleon or two, gambling on who would win.

"That's barbaric!" Hermione said, turning around and watching the two men acting like animals, cursing and yelling at each other unnecessarily. One minute they were on about quidditch and the next they were acting like children.

"Winner takes you," Fred teased, crossing his arms and leaning in to see how close Sirius was to getting Charlie's hand down flat on the table. He made an over dramatic reference to Sirius's bulging bicep stressing underneath his maroon shirt.

When Hermione chirped up an immediate protest, the surrounding company let out an applause of laughter. When Sirius slammed Charlie's hand down, winning the wager, he barked a heated laugh and knocked back his glass of Fire whisky that was handed to him by Fred, collecting his bet from George.

Sirius looked over to Hermione and slapped his hands on his lap, "You're safe love."

Hermione twisted her mouth into a smirk and shook her head, rolling her eyes unamused. She turned her back on the company, offering Ginny a slight wink and resumed cleaning the remaining plates.

A chair screeched loudly against the hard floor, indicating an immediate departure. The group looked over down by the end and Ron had abruptly stood up and stormed out of the kitchen, kicking the door open. The room fell silent and Sirius just shrugged, shaking his head.

Leaving her wand on the counter, Hermione quickly followed him out, catching the door in mid swing. She pressed on through to see the backside of her ex-boyfriend just reaching the front door. Hearing company following him, he spun around and ran a nervous hand through his hair, still obviously not allowing the news settle very well in him. He looked haggard.

"Ron, wait," she started, walking up to him and extending a hand to rest on his arm. She hated seeing him in the state he was in.

At first contact, he swung around and glared at her with fierce daggers, but he refrained from saying what he was thinking. He finally settled on, "I just can't grasp it, Hermione."

She nodded slowly, "I know. I'm not asking you to accept it right away-"

"Or at all!"

"Ron, please. Let's be adults about this."

"It's Sirius, Hermione! He's like our-" Ron started to compare him, but was swiftly cut off with a stern female voice ringing in.

"He is not, Ronald. Stop saying that. You know he was never that sort. Harry wanted him that way, yes, and he needs Harry like that, yes, but he was never that to us. Sirius was always our friend, not a guardian."

"But, it's Sirius! I just can't get...the two of you...if I picture it, I just get all wonky," Ron was stuttering over his own words, trying desperately to piece them together to try and make sense.

With sad eyes, Hermione looked to her friend, wishing she could just make him think straight. Seeing him frazzled and unsettled hurt her, for she knew the pain caused was her fault. Never did she want this to come between what she most valued - friendship. It was clear with the way Ron continued to pace with his fingers in his hair, trying to sort out the puzzle floating around in his head.

"I understand that this might be hard, but we just...we just...it's complicated right now."

"Do you love him?" Ron asked, stopping in mid pace to ask the million galleon question.

She swallowed all her doubt and nodded just slightly, her voice as quiet as a mouse, "Yes."

"This is absolutely mad! I just can't...we were together not a few months ago and all of a sudden-"

"It wasn't all of sudden, Ron. We just weren't working, were we? We tried so many times," she felt like she was fighting a losing battle. At least now, her patience with him had helped him stop pacing and he had resorted to glaring at the carpet between them.

"Were you seeing him when we-"

"No! Absolutely, not. We are still new," she lied, her eyes falling to the same spot on the rug between them.

"And yet, you love him, so quickly?"

"I'm pretty sure that I'm falling in love with him."

A few moments went by and nothing more was said between the two of them. Their silence was broken by the sound of creaking hinges from the kitchen door and slow booted footsteps coming down the hallway towards them.

Ron looked up at Sirius who had stopped before entering the foyer the younger ones shared and met his eyes. Without a word, he bowed his head and turned where he stood to leave through the front door. Hermione continued to stare at the spot her best friend previously stood, willing him to come back through the door and welcome them with open arms, but that was too much to ask at the present time. Her thoughts whirled around her head like a cyclone, wishing that the anger and hurt would whisk itself away with the wind.

"He'll come around," Sirius said quietly. His voice carried through the foyer as if he was an all-knowing God. He walked up behind her and gently placed his hands on her shoulders to soothe her.

"I've hurt him."

"No, I think it's me he's lost trust in."

Hermione felt her eyes beginning to water over the sinking guilty feeling that she'd caused Ron any kind of pain. He appeared genuinely hurt and conflicted. She turned around in his arms, nudging him to hold her close. "Is it wrong that I want to be selfish and not care what anyone thinks? I second guess myself all the time for going back; I know I broke the rules, but if I didn't...I would have never known what I was missing out on."

Sirius embraced Hermione the way she wanted, resting his chin on top of her head. She fit perfectly within him, like they were two puzzle pieces meeting their connecting match. He felt inner peace when she leaned against him, for he desperately wanted to be her rock and make up for all his absences in others' lives. She represented that redemption, he thought again.

"Wanting you was all I knew. I waited for so long. I counted the moments until your birthday, looked for signs, anything...but, I knew no different," he spoke into the air, more for himself than for her.

"I'm so sorry for what you went through-"

"Shh," he hushed, raising her chin with his forefinger. "I told you, every minute was worth the wait. But, I can't tell you how many times I came close to giving in. There were so many times I just wanted to say, 'fuck it' and grab you, resulting in serious collateral damage, or just give up all together. I was so worried that you were going to come home and...and not want me as I am now."

Hermione's brow furrowed with sympathy over the beautiful man whose heart bled as he spoke. Such a gentle nature, a sincere thought for her always on his tongue, and she was more enamored with him than when she left him standing in the doorway of his old house. The memory of him riding off on his motorbike was still fresh in her mind.

"You were younger, but I always had you, this you," she pointed to his chest, "in mind. I knew you were still like that, only it came out in spurts as you got older. I knew, because I'd seen it. When we were together, I always thought of the you that was most familiar to my eyes. The older Sirius, the godfather Sirius, the mourning friend Sirius, and the Sirius that danced with me on my birthday that kept his thoughts to himself. You knew your time was coming.

The feelings I had for you before I left were already planted, because of the way you looked at me. I know now, it was because of your past with me. Believe me when I tell you that I love you. I loved you back then and I love you now, because of the life you have led. I'm not going anywhere. I'm sticking around this time and unless you've got alternative plans...I'm staying for good, right here."

Her words fell on enchanted ears as he admired the way her champagne colored lips moved. Like a poet in love with his muse, he was captivated with the way she recited lines of devotion to him. It pained him now to think back on those dark nights when he never thought he'd hear them. He felt like he waited a lifetime for the woman of his dreams to grow up and come back to him. He cherished the way her body felt against him, how she was there willingly and without force. It felt so good and yet he still felt tortured to have missed out on her for so long.

"I don't want to miss my chance with you, Hermione," he whispered, pressing his lips against hers.

Her hands slid around his neck, rubbing a thumb over his barcode and adding, "Then, never let me go."

"I don't intend to, love".

PERCHANCE TO DREAM Ch. 4: Waiting and Watching

2010-08-20T06:20:21Z

Title: Perchance to Dream
Ch. 4: Waiting and Watching
Rating: NC17
Sirius/Hermione

Sequel to REASON FOR LIFE

A note from Serade Black: It has taken ages for me to update, but forgive me, I'm fresh from Infinitus and still recooperating! So, many of you are wondering who the mystery man is...you'll be meeting him in good time. Thank you to all the readers and reviewers, they do keep me going. I have every intention of finishing this story (estimating about 22 chapters total), as I have another one in the works. Enjoy ~ SB

Chapter 4 ~ Waiting and Watching

The sign out front of the seven foot tall chain link fence said, "Keep Out" with caution tape wound between the links. The sign was hanging from only one hinge. However, just behind it, it was easy to see a lush field of grass, sidewalks, benches and even a snack stand with a huge sign reading, "Frozen Butter beer" in flashing yellow letters.

Harry, Ron, Sirius and Hermione pushed through the gate to get on the magical side. They followed the walking path, nodding friendly greetings to passers-by that were leaving. Beyond the open field suitable for a couple of friendly games of quidditch, there was a row of trees that disappeared beyond canopy branches, giving shade on warmer days or protection from dripping skies.

Hermione followed the three men holding broomsticks through the park and glanced around to see if there were any familiar witches or wizards that may have been sharing the afternoon with them. There were mothers playing with their children, fathers laughing as they played games with their older sons and little girls playing patty-cake while sitting in the sandbox. Her eyes scanned the crowd and over by the concession, she caught a pair of eyes watching the four of them walking with great intrigue. A figure with dark hair and medium build watched each one of them carefully, causing a shiver to travel down her spine.

"Sirius," she whispered, but when he responded, she glanced back and the figure was gone. He must have Apparated. "Never mind, sorry."

They met up with Charlie, Fred and Lee, their old friend from Hogwarts. They were sitting down in the field, their wands out and charming their makeshift snitch to explode and reconnect in mid air. They stood as they saw their friends coming closer.

"No trick snitches! That's unfair and last time it burned Harry's hand," Ron pointed, raising his voice and trying to display authority to his older brothers.

"No tricks, little brother," Fred added, and put away his wand. "It's merely my own talent."

"Where's George?" Hermione piped up, glancing to all the faces in the circle as they met up.

"He minds the shops on Saturdays, I get Sundays," Fred said, nudging his brother Charlie in the arm with obvious intentions.

"Good to see you, Hermione," Charlie said, everyone noticing, except for Sirius, the obvious attraction and the sleeveless shirt he wore to display his new Horntail tattoo that wrapped all the way down his arm.

"Been a bit, Charlie."

"Okay! Who's on what team?" Sirius interrupted, slapping his hands together to get the game started. He wondered how long he was going to be able to keep his mouth shut, knowing this valuable information of his twenty-six year old rival.

Hermione ducked her head to hide her grin and turned to find a place to sit down.

"Not joining us, Hermione?" Fred called out, watching his brother's best friend and ex-girlfriend go off towards the nearby lounge chairs for those that would otherwise be sunbathing.

"No, just a spectator today. I needed a good laugh," she added, falling into the chair and propping her feet up in a way that she was ready for the game to begin.

Her eyes scanned the crowd again, trying to see where that distinguishable man had gone to. The person glancing their way was unfamiliar and distracted. The man must have left.

A quick glance back to her own party and she couldn't help but slide her lips into a smirk. She watched as Sirius mounted his broom with such finesse, it was like he was mounting a motorbike in mid air. As if the piece between his legs was nothing but a prop, rather than an essential part of the game, for he played the character as player rather well. Standing handsome and ready in his denim jeans and fitting long sleeved maroon shirt with the sleeves rolled to the elbow, he met her gaze with a slight wink.

The men soared about eight feet in the air once they kicked off the ground nearly in unison. They took on multiple positions: beater and chaser or chaser and keeper, leaving Harry as the lone seeker. It was an easy game to watch, fun at times to hear the swears or see the crude gestures the brothers would pass. Their snide remarks were not hidden from Sirius, including him whenever they were looking for an ally. Though Sirius was close to thirty-eight, he still played like one of the boys, not afraid of getting dirty and certainly not afraid to cheat if the opportunity called for it.

An hour into their playing, Hermione snuck off to retrieve some snacks and refreshments, surely winning the "best girl" award when she came back with butter beers for everyone. Collectively, they decided on a short break between games. Harry took it upon himself to try and get Sirius alone, hoping to talk to him about a pressing matter he had on his mind.

The two men followed the path along the green grass. Cracks in the mixture of cobblestone and cement crossed before them, depicting several years of hidden muggle waste dump outings and long afternoon quidditch games for generations before them.

"What's on your mind, son?" Sirius asked, nudging him to see a pretty girl stretching her arms over by the pond.

"Honestly? That," Harry chuckled, raising his eyebrows at her revealing soft stomach.

Sirius gave Harry a side glance, his eyes falling to the sidewalk to which they followed. "You want to talk about women, Harry? I don't think a man who has become recently engaged should-"

"No, no. Not me, you," Harry said in jest and threw an arm around his godfather as they walked. Somehow, the roles felt reversed. He cleared his throat as he continued, "You said you're seeing someone, already?"

Sirius was taken for a moment, unsure how to continue on. Thinking of how much his godson knew, he ran a slightly shaking hand through his falling dark locks. "I am, but I'd rather not really discuss it, just yet."

Harry nodded, pulling his arm away and taking a sip of his butter beer, "No, I understand. I was just wondering, depending on how serious it was, what you thought of Hermione.

Sirius immediately halted, awestruck almost, his eyes on Harry as if he'd been caught with his hands in the cauldron. His lips parted, his brow furrowed and with a slight tilt of his chin, he continued, "Say that again?"

Across the field, beyond the path, Hermione was just returning to her lounge chair to settle in for the next series of games. Her eyes scanned in the direction of the walking path, seeing two figures conversing together with a steady walk.

Her moment appraising her older wizard was interrupted by not one, but two Weasleys that cornered her on her chair by sitting on the end of it. She feigned interest and cleared her throat, folding her hands delicately in her lap. Her surroundings were too out in the open to not be noticed running away.

"Ron, can you give us a moment?" Charlie requested as his awkward brother failed to take the hint when he first starting walking over to Hermione.

Ron quickly caught the side glance beneath shaggy red hair and exhaled an inaudible curse under his breath. He busied himself with Fred, anxious to discuss a new invisibility potion they had acquired at the shop, leaving Hermione alone with the tattooed Charlie.

Feeling her cheeks warm just slightly, she couldn't help but glance down her chair companion's arm. Such an intricate design winding over each muscle, along each vein, curving down under his wrist. A quick swallow and slight nod and she confirmed that they did nothing for her, as her interests lay more with the scars and remainders of her prisoner's tattoos. It proved that it wasn't the markings she was fond of, but on whom they were etched.

The moment between them was too silent, and Charlie attempted to play it to his advantage when he caught her glancing at his decorated arm. "So, I'm just wondering if you're free tonight and if you'd let me take you out to dinner?"

Hermione's lips parted, her eyes glancing down the way to where Sirius and Harry had stopped to talk by themselves. She shook her head, pretending not to have heard the question, "Sorry, what?"

"I asked would you have dinner with me, tonight. I'm in town for a couple more days and it would be nice to spend some time together," Charlie repeated with an addition. His voice had a hint of arrogance, like he'd already known the answer.

Hermione was quick to excuse, glancing past him to his other brothers and how they found humor in tossing exploding bumble bees in bystander's paths. She shook her head as she imagined being a part of that family and its forever practical jokes. However, Charlie was far different than his brothers and by far, the best looking if you didn't include Bill, married, in the equation. Still, Hermione's heart was already taken.

"Thank you, Charlie. I appreciate the offer, however I'm already seeing someone," she declined politely. The words sounded odd when she heard herself say them aloud.

"Really? Ron said you've been free since you've dated him," he added curious.

"Charlie, forgive me, but I wouldn't be telling my ex-boyfriend about my personal relationships. You have to understand that, I'd hope."

Charlie took a moment to contemplate her answer, but resorted to a slight nod, "No, you're right, Hermione. Sorry. Guess I was too late in asking."

A small skip in her heart concluded that she was flattered by the invitation, but felt a stronger pang for the rejection. She tried to soothe the situation, "Yes, just a little late. But, thank you, Charlie." Feeling brave, she reached out and patted his arm with a couple of fingers, pointing to his new tattoo, "I like this. It's new, isn't it?"

Back across the field, Sirius was stopped and looking at his godson like he had two heads and eighteen eyes. His general reaction was far calmer than expected, but was not prepared for Harry to bring up the obvious. "Say that again, Harry? Are you asking me what I think of, Hermione?"

"Yeah," he shrugged. "I mean, she's pretty-"

"No, she's beautiful."

"You've noticed, huh?" Harry asked with a perked eyebrow at his Godfather, but Sirius was quiet. "I don't see her that way, but she is very pretty. I guess she's the sort of girl that might be good for you. She's lonely, you're lonely-"

"I'm not lonely, son," Sirius chucked, shaking his head.

Harry smiled and rolled his eyes, "I meant more of a loner. Remus mentioned that you once sat outside waiting for a girl in front of a bookstore, so I couldn't help but wonder if you two would be a good pair. Hermione likes books!"

The whole situation seemed a bit surreal, but Sirius played it off like a champ, amused by the "talk" they were having. "And all this came to mind, because Remus told you this?" There was a slight grin to the side of his mouth.

"Actually, I've been thinking it for a few weeks, now. I've noticed the way Hermione looks at you, especially since she first moved in with the two of you. You already know her, and well, I guess I can see how this might sound odd." Harry turned and started to retreat back on the path.

"No, it's not odd, Harry," Sirius pacified, glancing back up towards Hermione who was now touching Charlie's arm with her finger, no doubt admiring his new tattoo. A slight twist in his gut forced him to clear his throat and continue on, "I won't lie and say I haven't noticed her; she's all over the house. However, I can't help but fear that some of that may be strange for you."

"Not really, no. I mean, to Ron it might, but I'm sure he'll get over it. And if you are interested, might want to act fast because, it looks like Charlie is closing in on her." Harry was quick to notice the obvious body language of Charlie and the way he looked at Hermione. It looked completely one-sided, but he couldn't help but cheer on his own, before losing Hermione to another Weasley, with all due respect.

"I think you're right," Sirius said quietly, but secretly seething.

"Great, I'll talk to her!" Harry chirped, pleased to hear of the good prospects.

"That's all right, Harry. I can handle it on my own. I'm sure I'll be able to sway her. That is, if she's into older men," he teased, rustling up his godson's hair. He was beaming from the inside that Harry was concerned about his well being. He always knew he was, but getting this sort of approval meant the world to him and made things much easier.

Sirius swung his arm around Harry's shoulders and returned to the group with a much happier demeanor. The boys picked up their brooms to return to their make-shift quidditch pitch, but Sirius lingered behind to set down his butter beer next to Hermione.

He couldn't help but walk with a sort of swagger when he went to set down his butter beer on the grass next to her. Their eyes met only briefly as he said, "I'm in love with you."

Hermione didn't look at him as she tried to act interested in the boys mounting their brooms, but she whispered tight lipped, "I loved you, first."

He took a few steps backwards, mouthing the words, "I'm going to kill, Charlie."

She shook her head and said, "He's fine."

Their game ended with Sirius, Harry and Ron beating Fred, Charlie and Lee, but not by much. Like good sportsmen, they shook hands and waved their good-byes for the afternoon. The men set off in different directions to Apparate, leaving Ron, Harry, Hermione and Sirius behind.

"You coming?" Ron asked Hermione once he and Harry were a few feet away.

"I'm going to stay here for a few minutes. Take a walk around. I didn't get a bird's eye view like you lot did," she said in a slightly bossy voice.

Sirius was playing off a good stretch as he added, "I'm just going to stay behind and make sure she gets home safely. You two go ahead."

Without another word, Harry smiled to Sirius and gave a quick glance to his best friend standing at his side. He ushered Ron to leave them be and they both Apparated as they walked towards the front gate of the park.

With the sound of two definite "pops", Sirius quickly grabbed Hermione's hand and interlaced their fingers together, like he'd been aching to all afternoon. "Gods, that was hard to do!" he expressed, kissing her hard and using his other hand to hold her neck. "All of that, terribly difficult," he breathed releasing her.

"What? Playing quidditch? I have to say you're a bit rusty with your skills-" she teased, but was swiftly cut off.

He pulled away abruptly, "No, seeing you touch Charlie. Trying to pretend nothing was between us. It was hard before, but this time, Gods, this time I wanted to tear his head off!" Sirius tried to chuckle, but she saw a tinge of the mad man from his wanted posters twinkle back at her.

A muggle Frisbee landed a few feet away from them, where an attractive red head ran over to retrieve it, glancing up at the couple that stood close with locked hands. She smiled politely at first and then stopped once she recognized the man.

"Oh Merlin, Sirius Black! So, sorry, so sorry!" the girl had to have been a few years older than Hermione, her feet bouncing from one to the other, ushering her friend to run over. "Can I please have your autograph?" She held out her Frisbee to him, biting her lip and obviously trying to bat her eyes more than what would deem necessary.

Sirius reluctantly released his hold on Hermione and took the plastic disc she offered him to sign, "What is this?"

"It's a-"

"It's a Frisbee!" the girl was quick to talk over Hermione, showing her no deference. "You toss it in the air and it glides. I could show you how to play!"

"No, that's fine, thanks," Sirius said, trying not to offer any more of his time with the bouncing girl who was soon joined by her equally attractive blonde friend that squealed at the very sight of him.

"You can use my wand!" the blonde chirped up, grasping her friend's hand in excitement.

"No, I've got my own, thank you," Sirius said again, holding the object awkwardly, and used the tip of his wand to scroll his name across the top of it. Hermione slid her arms around his waist, ducking her head away so as not to let the girls see her rolling her eyes.

"Thank you, Mr. Black. We come here often, so if ever you want to learn how to play, just find us!" they chirped as they took their leave.

"Right, thanks!" he called out, sliding his hands over Hermione's arms that gripped him tightly. "We can never come to this park again, you hear me?"

Hermione grinned, "You live like a hermit, and so whenever you leave the house, this is what will happen."

With a smile and a chaste kiss, he pushed them to walk together toward the path that led to the perimeter of the park. Sirius dropped his arms to take her hand as they walked at a slow pace enjoying the company and the closeness. "Being a hermit has its perks. Then again, so does that tropical island I talked about all those years ago."

"The one where no one would know us and we could live out our days together in solitude?" she reminisced. Though he said it years ago, it was only a few weeks for her. She remembered it was to be their hiding spot, should Sirius remain the Secret Keeper for the Potters. Thinking back, she ached just a little bit that she had given Sirius the idea of changing it to Peter by just mentioning it. She had created her own "butterfly effect".

"The very same," he cooed, lifting their joined hands to kiss hers. "It's still there."

"Have you been?"

He nodded and ducked his head, watching the path before them as their feet walked in unison, "I went there with Buckbeak, after you freed me." His voice was somber as he spoke, feeling the hinting pain of his solitude. "Laid on the beach, writing letters to Harry, thinking of you and what was to become of me," he gave her a side glance, peeking beneath black locks of curtains, "I could take you there, if you like."

She smiled, biting her lip, "Like for a vacation?"

"If you'd like," he said, squeezing her hand. "So, what did Charlie want? I guess I should give him a fair chance to explain himself, before I feed him to his dragons."

Hermione smiled at the hint of jealousy in Sirius's voice. It made her feel wanted and gave her the confidence that he did, indeed, want her to stay with him. "He asked me out for dinner, tonight. Told him thanks, but I was already seeing someone and just left it at that. I had to be nice; the man practically pushed himself on me at my birthday party."

"He did?" Sirius asked, intrigued to hear this bit of new news. His grip on her hand tightened.

"He cornered me in the study and the backdoor was my only escape. I was relieved to see you were out there, because I knew you'd save me from him if I asked," she squeezed his bicep with her free hand, leaning in to kiss his shoulder. "What did Harry want?"

Sirius grinned and let out a light chuckle, "Only the best news I could have heard at just the right time, I guess."

Hermione glanced over at him as they walked in step, admiring his profile as he looked ahead just when there were passing into the wooded part of their walking path. The trees hung like canopies overhead, allowing birdwatchers and slow strolling couples to enjoy the shade.

"He gave me permission to ask you out," he chuckled, leading them to a bench.

Hermione's breath caught, "What?"

Her surprised sound reminded him of when she was younger and how many times she used to hold up a good side of an argument with him sometime over a meal. He continued with telling her how the subject was approached with Harry, gauging her surprised reaction with how to continue on.

He pulled his pretty brunette in closer, falling in to step with her. "Yes, said he'd caught you watching me for awhile, now. Thought it was a good idea for me to test the waters, per say. Have you, Granger? Have you been watching me for awhile? Since before you went back?"

Showing her age, Hermione blushed and felt her cheeks warming. She tried to focus on another wizard family walking along the path in a different direction, holding what looked like a Weasley joke product from the shop. "I've watched you since I was fifteen, Sirius. I've watched you locked behind two different kinds of prisons, wishing to be on the outside."

"You are my angel, love," he confirmed, pulling her in close. "Just, now we've got to slowly ease into this, and not show that we've been biblically introduced so long ago.'

"Well then, let's go back home and pretend it's our first date," she cooed playfully, laying her head on his shoulder. "I don't normally put out on the first date, but for you I'll make an exception."

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

They apparated to the front door of number twelve Grimmauld Place like a couple of teenagers: holding hands, quiet whispers and general anxiousness. They practically fell through the front door and as Hermione clung to Sirius's arm tightly, she giggled eagerly to get inside. Once behind the security of their house, Sirius called out for Remus. When nothing was returned, a sly sinister grin spread across his lips like an insane genius with brilliant plans.

"He's not home," he growled, nipping against the exposed skin of her neck. He trailed kisses along her cheek, running rough fingers around her ear. "We can be as loud as we want."

Hermione smiled back, her eyes alight with hungered desire. She allowed him to lead her up the stairs, stopping every few steps to taste his deliciously silky lips. A few more steps and they were on their landing, inching their way to the heavy oak door that still had "Sirius" engraved on a metal plate.

The weight of his back against the entry way flung it open, pulling her inside with desperate haste. He cupped her chin and reached for her neck, urging her to share in his passion with little convincing. He needed her like daylight needed the sun, like fish needed the ocean and all because she decided to break the rules and make him a better man. He was eternally grateful.

Every once in awhile, Hermione would see at flicker of the younger man within whenever he'd wink or curve his lips to the side of his mouth in a slight smirk. His outer shell was so much more defined, but he still kept up the same habits. He had the same face, the same breath, the same smell, the same eyes and the same burning touch on her naked flesh. He held her better than he used to, stronger now than before, for now he treasured her. His arms kept her closer, his hands were far more delicate with their touch and he kissed her while whispering her name. There was no doubt that he loved her all those years ago, for now as he pulled open her shirt to trail kisses down her collarbone and over the lift of her breasts just confirmed his deepest desires.

Her skin was cool where he'd left kisses, sending a thrilling sensation through her body that could only be compared to enjoying your first bubble bath after a heavy rain. He soothed her to the core, tasting her every curve with his lips and tongue, whispering dirty thoughts and telling her she was his own shining star in his midnight sky. He enchanted her, enticed her and formally invited her to lay with him.

He managed to shed nearly all of their clothing and as he pressed her down against the soft down comforter, his fingers lingered over the thin straps of her panties. His eyes devoured her, saving the peeling of her last bit of fabric for last, like he were unwrapping a special present. He ran a hand over her thigh, feeling the soft skin under his touch, savoring her scent mingling with his.

"I still think you're only a figment of my overactive imagination, love," he whispered against her ear, suckling a lobe.

"I'm here, because you want me to be," she said quietly, humming her approval with how his lips felt against her skin. He sent a slow euphoric surge of excitement down her body.

Her bare skin touched his, now naked together flesh to flesh and sex to sex. Not fitting in just yet, he laid against her, kissing the inside of her wrist, the crook of her elbow, the curve of her shoulder and under her chin.

"Merlin help me, I never want to let you go," he confirmed, kissing her lips for a longer time. "I'm going to be greedy."

She rolled him over on his back. Her leg slid between his, allowing the sheets to tangle around them. She gazed down at the man before her with handsome chiseled features of his aristocratic pureblood birthright. His skin was tan and taut over firm muscles defining the life he'd already lived. She leaned in, leaving soft kisses along the barcode tattoo on his neck, taking in his musky aura that intoxicated her very senses, believing that their coupling corrupted the old fashioned Ministry laws.

The sheets fell around their frame as they became one. The bed creaked its age, but with an approving rhythmic sound. Hermione sighed her pleasure aloud, her eyes falling shut and muffling her face against his neck as he bucked his hips to meet her. His hands gripped her rear firmly, forcing himself to plunge even deeper into her. Over and over they met their peak before settling down just before they put themselves over. The sound of the heated lovers' skin sliding together reverberated off the walls around them, sinking them deeper into their erotic aura.

She whispered for him to go deeper, harder and faster and like a slave to his lover, he obliged and rolled her over so she was on the bottom of his rather brutal pounding. Her hands pulled at his wavy black mane, arching her back so he'd bite the tips of her erect nipples as her nerves tingled deliciously. She moaned and purred, he grunted and nipped.

Finally, he took no more mercy on her and leaned down to whisper his Russian spell into her ear, leaving her in pleasure. Cradling her body, he came hard into her, his heart beating fast against hers. He kissed her temple, trying to sooth her as he quietly thanked her for allowing him such pleasure. His deed felt naughty and selfish, like he was taking advantage of her. But, it was she who begged him not to stop and was curling her fingers around the tips of his hair and leaving breathless kisses against his ear.

She smiled blindly and whispered, "Yes, you should never stop doing that."

He chuckled deeply, "Whatever you say, my love." He continued to leave kisses alongside her temple as she murmured her satisfaction.

A few moments passed and Hermione's fingers ceased their caressing of his arm to dwell on a thought. Probably something she had no business asking, but giving the state of things, she had a right to ask. "Sirius, I was wondering...about your activities."

"Legal or illegal?"

"I'm assuming legal, for the most part. But, I can't help but wonder what you did...before, I came back."

"Meaning?"

She swallowed, almost embarrassed to follow through, but managed, "Meaning...this."

He sighed, having allowed the pieces to click for a few seconds, "This."

"I know you haven't gone without for fifteen years."

He rolled over onto his back, freeing her of his physical restraints and let out an overdramatic sigh. A slight smirk lifted the corners of his mouth, "Absolutely. I've waited this entire time."

"I don't believe you. No one is that strong, most especially you!" she teased, rolling onto her side to rest her head on her wrist. "You have to tell me who." Sirius shook his head and could only smile. "When did you have time?"

He cleared his throat and reached for his wand that lay on the floor by his pants. He called for his pocket watch to check the time, laying it gently on his nightstand table. He glanced over to her, admiring the way her brown waves fell over her porcelain skin as she smiled to him with lips of a goddess...he was obviously stalling. How he loved the way she made him feel: youthful, passionate and worthy. Only now he didn't feel right keeping any secrets from her, for he promised himself he would deny her nothing. Still, she waited eagerly to hear what he had to say, even going so far as to gliding her fingers over his chest in order to coax it out of him faster.

"Sirius, please tell me. I won't be mad, honest," she pled, biting her lip and putting on the charm. She truly was dying to know, no matter how she was going to feel about it. Still morbidly conflicted, she had no right to be angry for his actions.

He raised a finger to touch her cheek and then looked up at the ceiling, "Well..."

"You start with a 'well', this cannot be good."

"Not many love, so calm down."

"Go on."

He closed his eyes to think carefully, almost wishing he'd cast a memory charm on her in order for her to forget what she'd asked, "Do you know the bar mistress at the Three Broomsticks?"

Her mouth opened, almost scandalized, "Madam Rosmerta?"

He chuckled again, "Yes, that would be her."

"When? How? You were still in hiding..."

"She has a thing for bad boys. Always kind of had a crush on her when I was younger. Gave me my first drink, she did."

"Well," she said raising her eyebrows and looking away at the indents of her pillow for lack of something more interesting to focus on, "Ron always fancied her."

"Yes, let's talk about you and Ron shall we?" he suggested, hoping to see her squirm.

"No, no, unfair! That was before you, so I have no dark secrets in my closet," she said, wagging a finger at him and rolling onto her stomach and resting her chin on her hands.

He couldn't help but roll onto his side to leave a kiss on her bare pale shoulder, silently making up for whatever damage he may have caused. Still, he couldn't help but stir her cauldron, "Didn't you date that quidditch player for a bit? The big gorilla-looking one from the Bulgarian team?"

"We're not talking about me, here. I'm curious about you, so stop turning it around. You know all my dirty laundry, if you want to call it that. I think the most scandalous liaison I've ever had is you."

"Still," he added, while moving her hair off her back so as to run his fingers over her skin, "you went from quidditch player, to Ron...to me. You have quite the eclectic taste, love."

"Stop turning it around on me, you're not off the hook yet. And your seductive moves aren't going to get you out of this conversation."

His gentle touching stopped abruptly and he fell dramatically back onto his side, "Then there was Emmeline Vance, but she'd wanted me for awhile, and Hestia Jones," he concluded with a silent nod.

"Emmeline? But, isn't she older-?"

"Yes, my age," he chuckled. "You forget how old I really should be."

She grinned to herself, thinking back on the truth of it. He was a generation ahead of her, but none of that mattered to her. Hermione wanted Sirius anyway she could have him.

"Now, about your quidditch player..." he chimed in, watching her eyes close and pretend to drift off.

"You know, on second thought, let's drop the subject," she said coy. She didn't need reliving any other men when she had his undivided attention.

PERCHANCE TO DREAM Ch. 3 "You Never Forget"

2010-06-24T01:54:06Z

PERCHANCE TO DREAM
Ch. 3 "You Never Forget"
Rating: NC17
Sirius/Hermione

Ch. 3 -

Each new day the sun tried to come out on its chilly November morning gave new feeling to the house. As it settled on its ancient foundation, creaking with every other step down the staircase, it was a constant reminder that life does move on. It evolves into something grander from the grand and more unique with each passing day.

That morning of all mornings, Hermione felt more than confident with the progress she and Sirius were making together. Though they were already an item, the small walls they had subconsciously built up in order to tear down were beginning to crumble and as she walked into the kitchen, the sounds of tinkering cups and sizzling pans met her with a particular uplifting beat in her heart.

Remus sat at the end of the table; the Daily Prophet propped up and open to read before him. He was still relaxing in his robe and butter was being smeared over his toast. He blindly stirred the spoon without touching it and was reading the latest Quidditch scores aloud.

"Ireland came in again? Blimey, they're really trying to prove themselves this season, aren't they?" Sirius stood in front of the stove, already dressed for his day in charcoal colored slacks and a maroon buttoned shirt. His waistcoat and jacket lay on the back of a chair. He glanced over his shoulder and smiled when he saw Hermione. "Hello, love," he said with a husky voice aged to perfection.

Hermione smiled back and went to his side, her hand resting low on his back. She watched as he carefully turned over eggs with a flick of his wand, "How come I don't see you do this very often?"

He gave her a sly wink, "I'm full of many surprises."

She hesitated, but then rose on her toes to leave a kiss on his cheek, tickling her lips with the side of his beard. As she came down, Sirius turned where he stood, placing both hands to the side of her face and kissed her properly, like he'd never been happier to have her there. The air left her lungs immediately for he never caught her off guard like that, since the day she came back. His passion was intense, his hands gripped gently and his lips were determined to make her know that he loved her.

As they pulled away, she was breathless more than he was, she added, "It's things like that, that make me want to quit the Ministry." She let a finger trail down his neck, lightly touching his Azkaban barcode.

He smiled again. His entire demeanor displayed peace and contentment. The situation was settling well with him, even with the adjustments and there was no doubt by the look in his eyes that he did not want anything else.

"I would leave, but haven't anywhere else to go at the moment," Remus said in a monotone voice, not looking up from behind the Prophet.

Shaking her head from Sirius's grip and bringing herself back to reality, she felt the uncomfortable third set of eyes that weren't on them. She quickly pulled away and cleared her throat, "Sorry, Remus. I forgot to say good morning."

Sirius resumed his cook duties and finished preparing breakfast for all three of them. Their conversation was moderate, with the topic returning to the subject of whether Harry should know about Hermione's journey and her visit with his parents. After weighing the pros and cons, the tally that concluded Harry not know. Should Harry discover her journey, questions would arise to why his parents were not saved. No matter how Hermione would have tried to justify her travels, Harry would not be satisfied, nor would he understand. The journey of the Time Turner would forever remain a secret between Sirius, Hermione and Remus.

0o0o0o0o0

It had been over a week since Hermione's initial return. Things were slowly shaping up into a bit of normalcy and the energy around the house was a happy one. Secrets were kept, should they have any visitors, and Hermione and Sirius played it off rather well that they were merely flat mates. Of course, once the sun went down and they retired to bed, she would sneak into his room undetected from any overnight guests.

The soft high thread count sheets covered Hermione's body with a silky sheath. She turned into its crevices, nestling her body into its confines while lying on her side to look at the handsome wizard that faced her. His arm was draped around her slender waist, while she took a finger and traced each line of his tattoos. She admitted she was somewhat fascinated with them.

He sighed heavily with his sense of contentment. Having her close and preoccupied with anything having to do with him was more than he could ask. His eyes studied every minor detail on her: from the way her hair fell over her shoulders, to the freckle on her neck, to the subtle twitch of her lip as she spoke. His fingers traced circles over the small of her back, biding his time until he could love her freely.

In the late hours of night, when the moon was only half, there was still enough light to silhouettes in dark places. The foundation of the house settled; its old staircases and walls giving off a random creak in the silence. Portraits were in the midst of sleeping standing up, while others were grateful to have been painted a chair along with them for added support.

Beyond the third door, on the third landing, was where Sirius and Hermione hid their secret. Underneath soft sheets and a cozy warm comforter, the young witch wrapped herself around the former Azkaban prisoner with every limb she possessed. Still very clothed, she snuggled against him like they were naked, hoping for the brief touch of flesh to flesh.

They'd made it an entire week without consummating their evident relationship. Sirius still holding fast and not submitting to her temptations thus far, he could not help himself when the opportunity presented itself that he might caress the soft skin of her arm or take in the fragrant smell of her hair. She helped him escape from his reality that he did not live the history that was written on him and they were both young together, their future laying before them.

However, Sirius was still a man and he could only hold out for so long. Though he promised himself he would wait, he found that he could only make it so long before his other side started to whisper encouraging thoughts into his mind and with just a gentle stroke, she would succumb to his desperate desire.

Without even opening his eyes, her young body called to him. He sensed her need and he knew what they both wanted from each other. With a slow start, he moved his hand over her stomach, letting his fingers graze her exposed skin. His hand ventured further, moving down her hip and over her thigh where he began tracing small circles on her arm. She remained still. His hand brushed over her stomach again, hoping to feel the velvet soft skin of her belly, making the tank top she wore rise a little higher. Sirius's fingers followed and he slowly raised his gentle caresses just beneath the rise of her breasts, barely grazing the underside.

He leaned in and began leaving gentle kisses against her temple, soothing her awake. She stirred slightly and turned into him more, blindly feeling for him and running her own hand down his arm. As she settled around him, she felt peace within her body. His hand went over her flat belly again, risking a second touch of the underside of her breast as her shirt slid up. Hermione stopped his hand from traveling on its own and slowly pushed it beneath her shirt to lay intimately on her nakedness. She heard his sharp intake of breath against her ear.

"Touch me," she whispered. Barely opening her eyes, she could only make out his silhouette in the moonlight, but the idea of him was enough to set her free. She was desperate for his touch; for this was the most he'd done since her return.

Her hands started to move over his strong stiff arms, squeezing at the bicep to encourage his fondling. She roamed across his back, feeling his muscles flex under her palms as he moved against her, taking in every shift and every crevice. Her lips left small feather-like kisses down his collarbone and under his neck where she ran her cheek against his hard stubble. Her leg slid next to his, pointing her toes as she felt the soft linen pants he wore and wrapping herself tightly around his waist.

Sirius's hands did what they were told, hesitant at first, but noticeably needy. He cupped each breast at a time, kneading them softly, squeezing pressure occasionally and then rounding his thumb and forefinger around her erect tip, causing her to shiver in his wake. His hand got more brazen, fondling her stronger, harder and with more dire need, that her gasping breaths encouraged him to go on. The way her body reacted to his minor touches, reassured him that she, indeed, wanted this. Other than telling him, he felt her body coupling with him more, pressing against him stronger and willing him to push on...if he dared.

Caressing hands moved her shirt higher, but it was Hermione who took it further by raising it with him and throwing it up over her head. In the slim moonlight coming in through the windows, Sirius could only make out the shadowed contour of the most beautiful creature he'd ever known. He wrapped his arms around her tightly, pressing his body against hers in order to feel the crush of her naked flesh against his bare chest, again. Sensual sensations and a pull in his groin forced him to growl against her neck as he pulled away to trail kisses down her jaw and to her ear, rekindling a lost passion. She welcomed him lovingly, her legs never unwrapping.

He settled in between her and proceeded to slowly thrust himself instinctively against her; his linen pants only hiding so much of his hard muscle now pressing against her juncture protected by a thin fabric of the shorts she wore. She let out an illicit moan for him, dragging her fingernails against his back in desperate need. She wanted him to touch her like he did before, reminding her things hadn't changed, but also to repay years of waiting torture for him.

Determined, she slid a hand down the front of his chest and down between them to the waistband of the soft linen pants he wore.

"I wouldn't do that, little girl," Sirius growled playfully in her ear.

She chuckled lightly, "Like you're really going to stop me in the state you're in."

"I might, if I know what's best for you."

"You are what's best for me, sweetheart. It's always been you."

On that, he pulled away to look at her. His teasing ministrations ceased and they were bonded where they lay. He slid his fingers down her cheek, cherishing her youth and intelligence she wielded with her power. He remembered this side of her only barely, but he would do anything in the world to rekindle what he once knew. Why was he being so thick not to believe that she was just as vested in this as he was? Time had been cruel to him, but forgiving enough to bring her back to him.

He was too still for too long for her and she captured his mouth, running her fingers through his soft thick locks, urging him to push forward. She wasn't letting him go when he'd already started the foreplay and pushed herself to roll on top of him where he took her willingly and without a fight. She pushed herself up on her arms, looking down at her very own prisoner. With a slight smirk to the side of her lips, she bent her head down to him and began leaving a trail of slow seductive kisses over the planes of his heaving chest.

She left him helpless to her touch, for when he moved, she knocked her head back, allowing her brown cascading waves to follow like a tigress on the prowl, leaving her mouth open and tempting; a red gleam could be seen in her eye that she was not letting up.

She may have detected a flicker of fear, but it was severe arousal on his face. He watched her carefully, not wanting to miss a moment as his young witch held him down with determined strength. She licked her lips and slowly bent herself down over him again, picking up where she left off, swirling her tongue and leaving elongated kisses down his torso.

He wasn't a thick man to know where she was going and he leaned his head back against the headboard, watching her with the eyes of a hawk. Very slowly, she snuck beneath the sheets that covered him, but before she was gone he reached to lift a finger under her chin. She looked up; her eyes black with desperate passion and heated arousal in the licking of her lips. She had no plans of stopping. She would follow through with her seductive intentions and Sirius would remain the somewhat innocent, but grateful bystander.

She leaned up to catch his lips, scraping her fingernails over his flat belly and stopping at the waistband of his pants. She moved away, still hovering before him, "You've waited a long time for me."

"I have," he said with a husky voice. He did not hesitate to agree.

"I haven't changed, Sirius," she soothed. "I'm still the same twenty-one year old witch that you had before."

"I told you that you would have to help me remember a few things," he said lightly.

Her hand that lay hesitant at the top of his pants, cautiously slipped beneath. He kissed her with a lasting breath, giving her the confidence to push on. Though she still had at least another week before his promise was up, she committed herself to breaking his word. It appeared that as her hand traveled lower beneath the soft linen of his pants and her fingers brushed over his erect muscle, that she would be successful on her endeavor.

Sirius let out a guttural moan from the gentle caress of her fingers. He slammed his eyes shut, seeing fireworks of worldly colors setting off in brilliant sparks. He imagined himself with her in another life, buried deep inside of her body. He had waited for ages to feel his witch with him freely and uninhibited. He grunted again as her hand swept over his naked skin, reaching to tangle his fingers into her soft brown locks. His audible sounds encouraged her forward and just as if she was silently commanded, slowly gripped him in such a fashion, touching on familiar pressure points. His body jolted over the tingling sensation and he gasped for air as if submerged under water.

Pleased with her immediate response, she wrapped her fingers around his hard muscle whose skin was pulled tight, making it feel smooth and silky in her hand. She made very little effort to please at that point, allowing him to adjust to the new developments and loosening his grip on her hair.

His breath was steady again, no longer gasping to compose himself from the slow easy strokes she had begun. She was patient with him, no doubt waiting for the opportune time to proceed with the inevitable world shattering blow. He knew what was coming.

With one easy slide, Hermione began to stroke her hand up and down his thick shaft, gauging his pressure points by the immediate intake of breath. Each hitch in his throat let out a quiet moan and it was confidence enough for Hermione to speed up her business. He shifted beneath her, his hips thrusting slightly to push the pleasuring notch, but it was when Hermione's other hand began to slide his pants down over his thighs did he feel he was going to be premature.

Soon, Sirius felt bare beneath the sheets. The cool fabric lay against his legs as Hermione positioned herself by his waist. She pulled down the sheets to expose him, his cock standing long and tall, vertical to his body. With a side glance of low lidded eyes, she displayed mouth watering hunger for his taste and slowly licked her lips before bending down and opening her perfect mouth for him.

She kissed his tip gently, feeling his body shudder because of her and ran her tongue down his length to the base. Feeling the power to push on, she slowly ran her tongue up and down his shaft, moving it like on a warm creamy dessert on the verge of melting. After a few more long lasting laps against his thick cock, she opened her mouth wide to take him in entirely.

Pure bliss met his senses like small erupting fireworks on his skin. Her moist mouth was euphoric that it forced her name from his lips in a gratifying sigh. His memory did not serve him right to remember such a thrilling feeling of being held captive by her. Erotic sanctuary had come to him, attempting to forgive his past to deserve such torture.

She slid him back out, licking her tongue to his tip, only to repeat her motion over and over again, building up speed as she went along. She brought him to his very edge, allowing him to ride out his physical jolts of pleasure, practically lifting himself off the bed with each swallow.

"Gods woman! You're going to be the death of me," he slurred, his hips thrusting into her mouth as his shoulders pressed hard against the mattress.

Hermione did not let up, her mouth worked hard against him, taking his cock deeper and deeper. In some disrespect of herself, she believed she owed this pleasure to him. It was her doing that he had to endure a life without her, knowing all that he had, forced to watch what he couldn't have. If she was able to return such pleasure, even at this small cost, it brought her great satisfaction for him to pull her hair gratefully.

Sirius hissed and whispered curses under his tongue, reaching back and holding onto his own bed post for support. He felt the inner animal inside begging to be released, to pull her back up and throw her down, fucking her absolutely senseless until the morning hours, but he refrained. He was bulging from his witch's mouth, being worked hard into an uncontrollable mess of testosterone and desperate endurance. He desired liberation.

Hermione sensed his edge, believing him to be very very close to his release. She tugged on him harder, her mouth closing in on him with ferocious suction and her tongue moving faster than a chameleon. She felt him take a fist full of her hair when he cried out louder profanities. His hips thrust forward, careful not to gag her, and spent himself into her waiting mouth.

Sirius's breathing was coming to a steady pace once again. His heart beat heavy, like coming down off a long rollercoaster of life. He had built himself up for that moment, waiting for her all those years, never knowing if they would be joined again intimately. He reached out for her blindly, pulling her to rest on his chest like a treasured toy. He left a kiss on the top of her head.

Their silence was encouraging. A stepping stone to rebuilding what they once had so many years ago, for Sirius. He closed his eyes to the darkness, a slight grin on his lips, waiting for his body to settle down from its intense pleasure. He heard his angel sigh and felt her hand rest alongside her face, gently tracing her fingers over his skin. Having her home, in his room, half naked next to him was enough for him to die happy that moment.

Nothing was said, but Hermione had only dozed off for a few minutes before she was shifted off of Sirius and lying on her back with him crawling on top of her. Her eyes opened just in time to see him coming in for a searing kiss, where he seized her mouth, claiming her. Her hands were pinned above her head and he moved his hot kisses to her cheek, down her neck where he growled heavily into her ear, nipping her lobe. His released her hands where she mechanically wrapped her arms around his shoulders meeting his lips when he'd let up. He shifted himself between her legs, feeling his way to their parted juncture. He growled again when met with the light cotton of her shorts, but was quick to remove them from her body with not so subtle gestures. She was sure, by the speed of her nudity, they were torn from her and would be in pieces wrapped up in the sheets to be discovered in the morning.

Once their sexes were freed and Sirius took his previous position, no longer obstructed by cotton protection, his entire rhythm slowed to a halt. His intensity softened and he realized that they were about to finish what they had started so many years ago. Weeks for her, but years for him. His mind was on broken hinges and his mouth was practically starving to taste her.

They still said nothing, not even a whisper to continue, no declarations, no pleading, just the sound of steady breathing and the desire to be joined. Sirius ran his skillful hands up along her silky soft thighs, teasing a finger at her juncture where she was wet and waiting. Her breath hitched for him and without realizing it, trembled for his touch. He held her tightly, trailing light kisses along her neck and grazing his teeth against her skin. He was poised and ready, just barely pressing his tip at her threshold.

Silence was their partner, accompanied by subtle panting and the heavy thump of their hearts. They know what they needed from each other, but it was hard to express and instead they kissed with desperate passion. After Sirius would press through, all answers would be final and all requests and long time wishing would be granted. He knew that his heart would never not love her, but would hate her should she discard him.

His tip touched the skin of her bare cunt and she breathed out, "Yes, yes, yes, Sirius."

Their time was up and without any hesitation, Sirius breathed, "I've missed you so much!" He pressed against and up into her, mentally thanking the Gods for that moment.

Her muscles adjusted to his new fit, her nails running hard into his back. She felt just like he had remembered: tight, wet and perfect. She was like a beacon of support, that constant star in his own constellation reminding him of a life still ahead of him. He knew it was to be with her.

Having Sirius inside of her was excruciatingly gratifying. He had changed; his fit was snug, filling her to deeper lengths. He was a man now, far from the boy she was with. He was whole, developed into the man that was sliding out and pushing into her again with deeper force and low grunting. He made her toes curl, he made her skin tingle at every nerve and his lips against her neck were like hot lava. He made her feel complete and his cock was so engorged within her, she wondered if she would ever give herself a minute to enjoy it.

Sirius slid his hands to her wrists, pinning them above her head. He left her helpless beneath him as he proceeded to nudge her legs wider in order to sink himself into her. She moaned her approval, letting him perform for her, leaving her feeling very wanton. He held her down with minimal effort as he made love to her in his old childhood bedroom of Grimmauld Place, never letting up and keeping up a steady pace. Each thrust was harder than the last and each time he plunged into her, his pace quickened, evoking moans of delight from his more than willing partner.

His pulse raced with a new level of intensity. The way she smelled, the way she felt, the way her skin tasted, all brought back memories. Thinking back now, he knew that he never worshipped her enough or told her he loved her before he left. He had been given another chance and as she writhed beneath him, her legs wrapping around his waist as he thrust into her, he found incredible pleasure from hearing his name fall desperately from her lips into his ear.

Hermione felt the slight vibrations as he growled playfully for her and then pulled away to see her expression. He flashed a grin, just enough to see his canine teeth below his top lip. He looked so familiar, but as a stranger at the same time. Hermione kept picturing him as the young vivacious man that followed her around to get her attention, but the image of the same man, years later, welcoming her home for the holidays over Christmas break. It was almost surreal, but calming at the same time.

In an instant, Hermione slammed her head against the pillow, feeling small firework sensations at the tip of her entrance. Sirius had snuck his hand down to where they were joined, flicking her bud that was engorged from the friction. It felt good, it felt euphoric and for a flash she believed she was all alone and unable to control her body from the spasms that were taking place throughout her body. She reached to run her fingers through Sirius's hair to display subtle gratitude to the pleasure he was inflicting, but the foul words coming from his tongue was thanks enough.

Sirius tried to restrain himself from hammering into her, hoping to take it slowly, but their chemistry was unable to be halted. Their unity was intense and she began to leave love bites against him. Overall, it was apparent that Sirius was not fucking Hermione, he was making love to her like he did for the first time.

Her womanly form was wrapped around him so tight, he couldn't remove himself if he tried. He continued to bring her through one rush to the next, while he held his own, not seeking his release yet. His focus was on the young witch he had beneath him, tearing at him with absolute desperate need. She clawed for him, running her fingers down his back with silent pleas to not let up. His witch was insatiable, not wanting him to stop thrusting into her. She had long since pulled his hand from between them in order to suck his fingers clean, aroused by the salty sweet taste of herself left on his fingers. She wanted to be dominated, she wanted him to pin her down and hold her captive.

Sirius sated himself with the allure of her lips and took the liberties of capturing her mouth any chance she wasn't calling his name against his ear. He loved hearing his name, but he loved it more when it was a constant whisper on her tongue begging for him to go deeper. He was losing his own willpower and having brought her to come for the second time that session, he felt compelled to relive an old memory.

He held her wrists above her head and leaned close to her ear. With a voice that could peel paint off the wall, he whispered the Russian spell against her. Hermione panted heavy, her eyes slamming shut as the warm sensation filled her. His body contracted in his hold, his arms weakening over her. He kissed her as he rode it out, his own breath difficult to manage. Their hearts beat as one, barely a word was said and the two remained limb locked for the rest of the night.

0o0o0o0o0o0

The sky outside was overcast. A few morning birds perched on low branches to watch muggle passers-by take to the streets for their morning commute. Just like every other day, someone would casually glance up to the numbers of the houses down the street, smirking to themselves that the building management had obviously made a grave mistake in the numbering between number eleven and number thirteen.

On the third floor, the second door on the left remained quiet. Sirius rolled away from the entrapment of his naked young witch's limbs, laying on his back and rubbing his eyes with one hand. He reached for his pocket watch that was left on his night stand and flipped open the brass catch to check the time. It was earlier than expected. He put the time piece back on the table and turned his head to be welcomed by warm eyes.

She smiled weakly, still in a sleepy state and closed her eyes again as she reached to rest an arm over his chest. "Morning, Sirius," she said quietly.

He smiled back slightly, whispering back and ran his fingers down her soft cheek, cherishing their close proximity. She was beautiful as she lay there next to him. Her hair fanned around her head over the pillow, tussled and untamed. Her slender neck curved to her soft shoulders where the sheets lay dangerously low, exposing the swelling of her breast.

"I'm glad you finally came to your senses," she whispered.

He cupped her cheek in his hand, "I can't turn back, now. I need you to breath."

Her eyes opened refreshed and hypnotized by his grey ones. He had so much to offer and though time was between them, it felt like they were picking up where they left off, only with new intentions. He was so dangerously handsome to her. His shoulders were strong, his chest defined and adorned with tribal tattoos of his incarceration. Her hands reached out to feel him, to have him closer again as she slid her leg over his waist.

"I just feel that I've finally won you, now. It's been a very long road...dreaming of you. Men like you only exist in history books."

He chuckled quietly and said, "I'm just so sorry it took us so long to get back to each other, again."

After a few more minutes of good morning snogging, complete with a few moments of Sirius just "sticking it in for a minute", they got up to have morning tea. Sirius slipped on his linen pants and Hermione was left with shards of her shorts, but settled on just wearing her robe downstairs.

Hermione entered the kitchen with Sirius close on her heels, when they were greeted with the smell of bacon and eggs sizzling in a frying pan on the stove. Next to it, the kettle steamed. Harry and Ron were bustling around the kitchen, while Remus sat at the far end of the table reading the Daily Prophet. They came upon a scene that could have flashed back at least four years ago to a happy, lively kitchen. As Harry stood at the stove, turning over a pair of eggs, he smiled to his best friend and Godfather as walked in. He bid them a good morning and asked if they wanted some breakfast.

The secret couple stopped to survey the room on their own, taking notice with the way Remus acknowledged by adding a slight smirk on his lips. The young wizards seemed to be in light spirits that morning, wearing orange quidditch jerseys of the Chudley Cannons.

"Sirius, eggs? Hermione, there is toast already on the table if you want to help yourself." Harry took no notice at the close proximity Sirius was standing to Hermione as he was just pleased they had more company that morning as they took over Grimmauld Place's kitchen. He glanced to Ron, reaching for the steaming kettle that protested its readiness. "Ron, Sirius likes two sugars."

"I'm not a bloody house elf, mate," Ron joked, giving a nod to Sirius who was still standing behind Hermione in a slightly frigid state. "Hermione, still one sugar?"

As if being doused with water when hearing her name called, Hermione remembered that she was still standing in the kitchen in only her robe and nothing else. Subconsciously, she tightened the terrycloth belt and raised he chin, pretending that she was no unnerved. "Yes, Ron. Thank you."

She paid no further attention to Sirius, making a careful effort to sit on the other side of the large oak table, away from him. She smiled sweetly to Remus, who otherwise could not seem to make his lips unsmirk when she'd catch his attention.

Sirius rounded his shoulders, or rather he slipped into a calming composure. He patted Harry on the back, showing his gratitude and overall affection to see his Godson. He never wanted to seem ungrateful for the times Harry would drop in unannounced. Though the Chosen One was nearly twenty-two these days, Sirius still felt he would forever play the role as "surrogate" father and had years to make up for his absence. It seemed a moot point with Remus having somewhat filled those shoes for awhile. On the other hand, it was a mutual understanding what place Sirius had in Harry's life and if they could turn the clocks back, they would have.

"Well done and scrambled, son," Sirius requested, turning to take his seat on the far end of the table, away from Hermione. He forbid himself to sneak longing looks to the pretty witch sitting next to his best friend, trying to dim his radiating glow.

Ron turned from the counter to bring Sirius his tea. He set the saucer and cup before him and whistled, "Sirius, what happened to your neck? You've two or three deep red marks...are those bite marks?"

Remus pretended to remain mesmerized by the last page of the Daily Prophet, but couldn't help but clear his throat just quietly enough for Hermione to take notice. She snapped her head up just as her cheeks blushed a rose color.

Sirius hesitated, assessing the red marks he could see on his chest. "Ah," he started, clearing his throat, "Must have been this witch I've been seeing."

"Excellent!" Ron exclaimed, admiring Sirius like some sort of icon. "Funny, I haven't seen you with a bird lately."

"It's a fairly new thing," Sirius was quick to add. His voice was calm and convincing, like he had it already scripted in his head.

"You are going to bring her around, so we can meet her?" Harry asked, coming to the table with warm plates of steaming eggs and sausage. There was a heavy clink as he set them on the hard wood table.

"Not right away, I'm afraid. Don't want to scare her away, you know. I carry a lot of baggage, remember," Sirius added, taking a bite of his toast and glancing down towards Remus, but letting his eyes linger just a few seconds over the pretty brunette with the tousled brown hair.

"Wow, mate! Looks like she did a number on you," Ron added with a friendly nudge to Harry, pointing out that he had at least four different markings along his chest and by his collarbone.

From the end of the table, Hermione was in agony over the taboo conversation. They were teetering on endangering themselves, risking the early exposure of their relationship and sitting at the breakfast table naked under a robe was not the way to approach it.

"Do we have to talk about this at breakfast?" Hermione piped up, feigning disinterest. "I hardly think this is decent conversation."

"Sorry, Hermione," Harry said pulling on a bite of bacon. "Hey, where were you? I peeked into your room, but you weren't in there."

Panicking for a second, Hermione looked up, her eyes skimming over Sirius for a second, but managed to convince her friend, "Must have been in the bathroom when you looked in."

"My brothers and I were wondering if you'd be up for a pick up game of quidditch, Sirius." Ron asked, fairly animated to invite Sirius. "We go to this wizard park just on the other side of London." He started to address the rest of the table, or whoever would listen to him, "The outside gates are designed to make it look like an old waste dump." He glanced towards the end of the table at Remus, "Care to join us too, Remus?"

Remus folded his paper and gave Sirius an alarming look when he noticed the markings on his chest. He shook his head and added, "No, I'm starting my old job back at Flourish and Blotts this afternoon."

"Remus, that's brilliant! Please, let me know if anything good comes in, would you?" Hermione said with eager delight. She only wished she had taken advantage of Remus working there the first time he was employed by the bookstore, but it was against the rules. This time would be different.

"Fantastic Moony, just like old times again," Sirius piped up.

"Yes," he began as he stood up, folding the newspaper back onto the table. "But, perhaps you won't be there waiting outside the store for days, waiting for a particular witch to come by and join you." He smirked slightly and glanced briefly to Hermione. He noticed her cheeks perk red as she reached for the newspaper with flashing pictures.

Harry was the first to grin, his eyes on his Godfather. "You sat outside the bookstore for days waiting on a girl?"

Sirius shook his head, his black hair falling before his shoulder as he reached over and stole a piece of Harry's toast. "I was pretty hung up on this witch for awhile, so I had to go to one of her favorite places in order to lure her in."

Hermione remained quiet and still as her eyes traced over the same words to the top story of the Daily Prophet over and over again. She bit her lower lip to remain calm.

"Really? You were falling for a bookworm?" Ron chirped in, grinning as he chewed with his mouth open. Bits of egg fell on his shirt. "Sirius, wouldn't see that for you, mate."

"Well Ron, sometimes you cannot help who you fall for," Sirius said very plainly as he stood to refill his tea. He patted the ginger on the shoulder as he passed.

"Perhaps you should be dating, Hermione," Harry added with a light chuckle, "They don't make them like her, anymore."

"Hmm, tempting, but I think she's out of my league," he chuckled. "What do you say, love? Shall we have a go?" Sirius said in a merry voice, almost testing the taboo and the temperature of the house guests.

Feeling like the tips of her ears had turned as pink as the blood in her head allowed, Hermione got up to refresh her tea as well. As she neared the counter, she couldn't help but reply, "Absolutely."

She stood at the counter next to Sirius, holding her cup out to be refilled with the steaming hot water from the kettle. He gave her a sly wink and whispered, "Perhaps we might need to start locking the door." Hermione only nodded for him, her eyes glancing over at Ron and Harry from time to time to make sure they couldn't hear them. "As well as casting 'Silencio'."

Hermione looked up horrified, "You didn't? I thought you did!"

Sirius shrugged and smirked, setting the kettle back down on the burner, "Wasn't really on my mind at the time."

Hermione's face cringed; feeling scandalized and incredibly embarrassed. She tugged her robe closed a little more, feeling incredibly exposed all of a sudden. Her naked skin brushed past the terrycloth as a reminder of their naughty act. Still, her lips couldn't help but smirk into a slight approving smile.

"So, are you in?" Harry asked, still mashing pancake into his mouth. He and Ron had all but devoured their breakfasts like two savages, with only crumbs left as proof.

Sirius turned around, holding a fresh cup of tea and sipping it carefully, "For quidditch?" He leaned against the counter, his arm just grazing hers.

"I've got no plans today, so I'll come and watch," Hermione added casually. She wanted to spend any time with Sirius that day that she could. Even if it meant watching some coordinated and some not so coordinated wizards balance on brooms.

"Sorry that Ginny is away at University, might be a bit boring for you," Ron said, standing to put dishes in sink.

"No, a good Confundus charm works wonders for entertainment, Ronald," she was quick to add, "If you can remember."

Ron grinned at her for a moment, remembering how she helped him their sixth year at Hogwarts, then ducked his head and walked passed, "Oh, Charlie's in town, so you know he'll be out there if you're out there."

"Your brother, Charlie?" Sirius asked, raising his cup suspiciously to his lips. He couldn't help but flex his chest when he caught Hermione glancing over to inspect the 'bite' marks over his tattoos.

"Yeah, he's got it bad for Hermione, here. Keeps asking when she's free, but I told him to just send her an owl himself. I'm not his bloody secretary!" Ron declared, pushing in the chairs at the table, a habit he certainly picked up from his mother.

Remus had left the kitchen first, eager to get on off to work. Ron was close behind, having grabbed a muffin that was sitting on the counter. As Harry caught the swinging door, he took one last look behind him to see Sirius smiling down at Hermione. They looked peaceful together, friendly and comfortably. It was merely Harry's observation and with only a slight thought on his mind, he left the kitchen.

Perchance to Dream Ch. 2 "Revisiting Memories"

2010-05-01T12:05:29Z

PERCHANCE TO DREAM
Ch. 2 - "Revisiting Memories"
Sirius/Hermione
Rated: PG (overall story NC17)

Chapter 2

"Revisiting Memories"

Still only the second day since her initial return, it felt like a lifetime. The same street Hermione remembered leaving in her fifth year for the train station with a big black dog at her side came into view. But now, as the branches hung lower, fall beginning to send their foliage to the sidewalk, and the big black dog was transformed to her side, everything appeared different. New memories were unfolding, secrets were being shared and she never felt more complete or centered on her life than she did while walking next to Sirius hand in hand. It was almost like she knew, even before she went back with the Time Turner, she was meant to follow this destiny with him. Maybe she just always had a thing for dazzling older wizards.

Their footsteps fell together in step on the brick sidewalk. Hermione would bump his shoulder every now and then when her superstitious side would skip a crack, but it was warmly welcomed with a slight turn of his head and a guaranteed smile.

Being alongside of him, basking in his essence, remembering what he was like when she would sit around the long table at Grimmauld Place, listening to his stories of how things were and how things were going to play out. She remembered him taking his seat at the head of the table, not by right, but because everyone else in the house respected him enough to allow him to take that seat, no matter how much he hated it. He would sit at the end, listening to Remus and Molly talk about how hushed the Order was, but still felt it right to clue in the "kids". It was obvious now that Sirius never saw Harry as a kid, as much as he wanted to take full responsibility for him, and he never saw Hermione in that same light, because he knew her. He knew her both as a girl coming of age and as a woman with a balanced mind. He never worried about her, he knew how she'd turn out.

"Why did you pull me from the Veil?" he asked, holding her hand tighter as they walked. Their steps were slowing now that they were getting closer to number twelve.

"Because of my diary," she said glancing over. She admired the way his wavy hair fell over the collar of his jacket, like a romantic dark knight. His expensive threads said a lot about his life transitioning from the young man that she adored into the man that she had fallen in love with.

"You found it," he confirmed, an edge of closure hinted in his voice.

"When I read your last line, something in me clicked, like you were speaking to me from beyond and I just knew."

They stopped before the iron gates of number twelve and he turned to face her, his hand reaching up to gently caress her soft cheek like he was seeing her for the first time. It made his insides tear and reform to know that she had always harbored feelings for him and just being in the right place at the right time there as he followed her along on his motorbike, begging for her name, wasn't just a coincidence. She didn't have to go back and she certainly didn't have to allow him the liberties he took in getting to know her. At first, he blamed her for the torture she'd given him, but as he grew and matured, he understood why it had all happened. He had come to terms with the reality that she was not able to save James and Lily, for the future had already happened. It was out of her hands and not the right path.

"You saved me," he whispered to her like a seductive incantation.

"I did it for Harry," she confessed, gazing up at him and hypnotizing herself. Her hands slid up the lapels of his coat, making note of how every thread was woven to perfection against him. He felt warm and solid beneath her palms. Knowing him as a man that had lived was far more thrilling than being with him when his life was still a mystery.

"Only for Harry?" he asked, quietly begging for more of an answer.

"No," she began, "I knew you had a life to live and I think, for selfish reasons, I wanted to see if I had that chance, like I wrote in the diary. I knew that my partner in life was always going to be compared to someone like you."

"Why me, Hermione?" His voice was slow and absorbing, like he was trying to discover the real reason for her to have gone back with the Time Turner.

"Because, it was the way you looked at me. The year you were on the run, breaking the rules to visit Harry, to see all of us. You would look at me, like you saw something more. It was like you knew who I was going to be and then I realized that you had lived a life already and still had an incredible adventure ahead of you," she felt his arms pulling her in close as the night breeze blanketed them in the darkness. They still stood before the gates of number twelve, their house just a few feet away. "I was so saddened by your death; I kept replaying it all in my mind about how things could have gone that night. What if I was there, what if I could have done something-?"

"You couldn't have done anything, sweetheart," he calmed. He cradled her close, feeling her entire body beginning to shiver, but not by the cold.

"I found my diary one day and when I saw your handwriting with mine, how elegant, how precise, I just needed to try. I was finally in a position to take a chance and when you came out of the Veil, my heart broke," she confessed, loving the way his arms felt around her as she told her inner secrets. She felt lifted, free and finally ready to move on with him. "It was who you were and what you did and what you lived through that reached out to me. Maybe I was always in love with you and that's why I let myself fall."

Sirius was on the brink of emotions with her, listening to the way she told her story, her inner deep secrets and confessions, and all he wanted was the girl that let him be himself when he was reckless and fearless. Little did he know that she saw him for the man he was going to be in the boy that played pranks with James.

Believing he had the permission, Sirius leaned down to kiss his sweet girl. So young and full of life, he wondered where his place would truly be in her life. He had his doubts at first, but sooner rather than later, he was discovering the depth to what she would do for him all over again, if she had the chance.

When in the foyer, Sirius helped Hermione remove her coat and handed her bags of shopping to put away. As she took the first step, she stopped and turned around as he was just hanging his own coat on a waiting hook.

"What love?" he asked, seeing that she stilled, staring at him from the staircase.

"You tried to tell me, didn't you?" she asked quietly, as if standing on the staircase helped her revisit some memories.

"What's that?" he asked, leaning over the side of the railing, looking up at her like an angel, still holding her shopping.

"Right before I left...you cornered me," she looked at the wall next to her and reached out to touch it, "here."

He said nothing; he only licked his lips and looked away as he remembered when he shoved her up against the wall, demanding to know if she needed him. He recalled the tension in his body, the hungry desired look played on his face, but he also remembered the way her breath hesitated for him...like she wanted it.

"You were so mad at me, furious even-"

"I wasn't angry at you. I was frustrated at the situation. I cracked and I'm not particularly proud of myself for that moment," he recalled, finding it hard to meet her eyes at the moment.

"Still," she said, breaking the tension and turning to finish up the stairs. She fanned herself and said, "You were so incredibly sexy with the way..." her voice faded as she reached her bedroom.

She joined him in the kitchen for what she thought was going to be hot tea, but instead she was met with a glass of red wine in delicate crystal. He stood there holding it out to her with a dashing smirk to the side of his mouth, the top buttons of his shirt undone and he'd rolled his sleeves up his forearms. He looked so regal, so handsome, she could not resist without biting her lip before taking the glass.

After the first sip that tasted aged, but sweet, Sirius reached for her hand, "Come." He took her out the backdoor that emptied out onto the little deck before the back garden. Sirius slid his wand out of his pocket and aimed it up to the hanging branches that hung low over the center of the back garden, "Suspendio Foliage Illuminatus."

His voice recited the spell smooth enough that she was just as enchanted as what was transpiring in the back garden against the starless night. As if someone had strung electric holiday lights through the branches, the tips of every other leaf was illuminated with a silver white glow creating a canopy of magic. The garden was beautiful and it was enough to take her breath away.

Sirius reached for her hand again after tucking his wand in his pocket, "Set down your glass." He started down the steps while setting down his own.

She resisted for a moment, "Sirius, I've no shoes on."

"Even better," he said with a wink, removing her glass from her fingers for her. He pulled her down behind him, stopping a few feet from the center of the back garden and under the pretty white blowing lights.

"What are we-?"

"We never finished that dance on your birthday," he said. His hands were already positioning on her waist and raising her hand up into his.

"My birthday?" she started to recall the night of her twenty first birthday and how she had found Sirius alone on the back steps. They talked for a few minutes, but it was Hermione that had asked him to dance...because it was her birthday.

"I was out here, because I knew your time was getting close," he began, taking the first step to the side as her hand rested on his shoulder. "It was the beginning of the waiting game. I had no idea when you were going to go back, just that one day you would return and everything was going to be different."

Hermione grinned and looked down to see their feet slowly moving from side to side on the grass. Her feet looked so small next to his larger ones in dark alligator leather. She moved closer, so that they were touching now. Her hand that rested politely on his shoulder slid up behind his neck where she could feather her fingers in his soft black waves.

"I remember feeling that you were missing when I was inside the house when everyone was there," she recalled, tilting her head back to better see his face. "I looked around the kitchen, it was right after I opened those running shoes that everyone thought were a great novelty and was laughing when Fleur put them on. I wandered into the study, ran into Charlie, but I was really looking for you and that's what made me go outside."

"You looked so beautiful that night," he whispered, ducking his head to kiss her temple. She smelled so fresh, like jasmine and roses, that it numbed his senses.

"I asked you to dance, because I knew you wouldn't deny me. It was the only thing that I really wanted," she closed her eyes and rested her head against his shoulder, "from you anyway."

They swayed together slowly, the cool crisp breeze circled around them lightly. The enchanted leaves above them slowly began to burn out overhead, until only a few scattered ones remained.

"All I could think of was the way you used to lay your head on my shoulder when we rode my motorbike," he said in a low nostalgic voice. "Or the way your eyes saw me through the crowd when you'd meet me in front of Flourish and Blotts. They were simple things, but those were the moments I held onto for all these years."

"I'm right here, Sirius," she whispered as her hand traced the Azkaban barcode that snuck out just over his collar. "I'm within your reach."

His smell was intoxicating to her and his touch on her body gave her butterflies in her stomach. She imagined herself back at Andromeda's house. The music of Billie Holiday playing in the distance while they shared a quiet intimacy that only involved the two of them together, like they were dancing on air. She felt safe and content, realizing that her mission to go back to him really was successful, for he knew that he was valued. He was desired and loved by the young witch that found solace in his arms that very night.

"If I knew that you would make me feel like this, I would have waited even longer," he whispered against her soft skin.

"Tell me about Azkaban," she whispered, her fingers traced over the skin from the open buttons. Tuffs of chest hair were visible.

"What is there really to tell, other than what you already know," he sighed painfully. The memories were difficult to allow to be repeated, but he would never deny any of her requests.

"Were you afraid?"

A long silence crept along before he shook his head, "No, I wasn't. It wasn't fear that I was experiencing, unlike my neighboring cellmates. I was just ashamed. Being afraid was never a factor, only the nightmares later in my sentence when I got out. The memory of the Dementors was enough to...well, it was very difficult to sleep at night, even when safe here in Grimmauld. But, when I was in there, I was worried what the Order would think, or what you would think." He ducked his head low, so that his face was right next to hers and their lips only inches apart. "Though I dearly missed my friends, I thought of you often. I wondered where you would go. I wondered what you would think of me. I imagined you believing that I would commit such a terrible crime. I kept replaying the night in my head, the vision of James and Lily dying and believing Remus was probably along side with them. I imagined you standing there, waiting for me, only to have the news broken to you by the Daily Prophet."

They had stopped dancing, stopped swaying and they stood together close in the cool night air. Whispers of the wind blessed the branches, causing them to crack and show their season. The night illuminations were nearly gone, the spell having worn away.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, placing a hand over his cheek, kissing him at the corner of his mouth. "I'm sorry you had to endure all of that without knowing any of the truth. I promise to spend all my time making it up to you."

Sirius lifted her chin to meet his lips, sliding his tongue between them, wanting to relay to her the passion that welled up so strongly within him for her. His need for her was like quenching a thirst at the end of a very long journey. His waiting had ceased, his prayers to the Gods had been answered and the way she lifted him was beyond mental paradise. When she was with him, standing there, holding him so close, he was home. He would be glad to be anywhere, but he was home only with her.

Their night together was coming to an end and Hermione was starting up the long staircase with Sirius close on her heels. When they reached the landing with both of their bedrooms, she turned and stopped in front of the thick old door that had long been weathered and aged. It still had the nameplate "Sirius" on it.

She slid her hands up his shirt, letting her eyes linger on the barcode on his neck before lifting them to his hypnotizing grey orbs. His body felt warm and solid, she pressed her palms flat against him, feeling the steady thump of his heart.

Sirius was hesitant when touching her. Even when his fingers traced the outline of her jaw or pushed a stray lock away from her face, he believed she was like a bubble about to burst with first contact and would no longer exist. He would never have dared to softly caress her neckline a few days ago, no matter how enticing she was to him, but now he took direct liberties in doing so. However, every time she took his hand to interlace their fingers, it took his breath away like he was enjoying human contact for the first time.

"I cannot be away from you tonight, no matter what you say," she whispered to him. Their foreheads leaned against the other as teasing kisses were given. His hesitant hands reached out to her waist, closing his eyes for their intimacy. "I'll go change and I'll be right back."

He was at a loss for words when he felt the needy burn in his chest. He watched her pull away and hurry to her own bedroom four doors down. His eyes studied the way she moved with the grace of a Veela. He was concerned for his sanity to resist touching her that evening, knowing it was to be the strongest test of strength.

Crossing over his own threshold and knowing that she had every intention to return to his room was barely enough for Sirius to handle without sitting down and sorting his head out. Memories of the way they used to be intimate rushed back to him like a flood. He remembered what she did and how well she knew how to do it with him.

Touching her would mean the world to him, having waited for so many years for her to come of age and know about their past. But, it was all too soon for her. He needed to allow her time to decide if he was the one she wanted, for tasting her before her decision would only mean a bigger disappointment. He'd rather not know what he was missing, than to live with the recent memories of how she cried out his name while he made her his own.

"Hey," she said as she stood at his door wearing a bathrobe. Sirius hadn't even started to unbutton his waistcoat; his mind was running too quickly.

The side of her mouth smirked when she noticed him shift anxiously when she walked in. She closed the door quietly and turned to admire the dark mahogany furnishings around her. His four poster bed never looked so regal or intriguing with its decorative pillows and maroon comforter. And she never remembered being in there when the lights were so dim, adding a seductive ambiance about the room.

Sirius's eyes were on her as he basked in the child-like thrill that she came into his bedroom willingly and without platonic intentions, even if they were holding out two weeks. He watched her walk across his bedroom with the same grace as a witch whispering a hypnotizing incantation. He was incredibly drawn to her, unable to look away and eager to see what she had on, if anything, under her robe.

His eyes followed her hands, mesmerized by their slow moving gestures. She untied the loose knot and opened it up to reveal herself to him. Very slowly, she slid the robe off her shoulders, allowing it to fall to the floor without any care. Beneath the satin robe, she wore a fitting cotton tank top with tiny matching shorts that exposed more of her skin than he was ready to see. However, just like he remembered, her skin looked smooth and her legs a milky pale white that were slim, but firm, as he recalled the way they would wrap around his waist.

Hermione was not blind to notice him studying her every movement like a lion getting ready to pounce on his pray, so she took slow timid steps towards him. She looked down towards the rug, but her eyes looked up on their own from dark mysterious eye lashes. She feigned bashful and her heart skipped a beat to notice that hungry look in his eye that made him appear weak and vulnerable to her every wish.

She stood a mere twelve inches away and he chanced a glance down to her pleasantly displayed bosom beneath stretching cotton. His mouth watered to kiss her skin just once. He hungered for her touch, just to feel the satin-like flesh beneath his finger tips. His allure to her was like a vampire to blood on its first night. He felt his breath beginning to shorten the tougher he needed to be as she pushed herself into his personal space she was very much welcome in.

Hermione sensed his pleasurable discomfort and pushed all her enchantments towards him, in the event he might cave. She heard his intake of breath and moved in closer hoping to lure him in enough that he might concede to their overwhelming urge to be one again. The suffering was not one-sided, Hermione's skin began to burn for his touch. She yearned to be handled the way she used to, submitting to his desires and discovering new ones. His aura was strong and powerful and it reined her in like a beacon.

Exhaling slight frustration, but with innocence, she said, "You can touch me, Sirius."

His eyes trailed down over her collarbone, imagining himself leaving hot suggesting kisses along her skin. He sighed, "You're going to make this very hard on me, you know that, right?"

Hermione looked away, feigning innocence, "That's my intention."

The room was quiet, aside from the ticking clock on the wall. If silence made a sound, it would be thick, like rushing water and both bedroom occupants could hear it.

His shoulders relaxed as she stepped closer to him. She was beautiful and barefoot, running her hands up over his chest and settling on the buttons of his waistcoat. His insides felt like warm lava stirring about him, making his blood boil with her presence near him. He appraised her young features blessed with satin-like skin and admired the slight swell of her breasts dipping beneath her tank top.

He was stiff, frigid even, as she stood before him, lightly tracing each button of his clothing. Having her standing at this close proximity was causing his pulse to quicken. Her smell filled his senses, rendering a brilliant wizard powerless. He made no movement when she leaned up to touch his lips with feather-like pressure. Holding his own, his arms to his sides, his hands balled into fists, he fought against the overwhelming urge to take her where they stood. But, he remained steadfast and firm, allowing her to trace her fingers along his neck where his shirt met at the bent collar without any risk. He wanted to pinch himself, convincing himself that all was really happening. Having her there so close against him was too good to be true.

Hermione pulled away, sensing that something was off. She could tell that Sirius had tensed up under her hands. Her eyes met his, dark and weary, pained and tortured. It was like she was reading his mind and seeing the lightning sparks of confliction. He was torn, beaten and mentally exhausted with what had been placed before him.

"Do you remember the first night we made love?" she whispered, her fingers beginning to unbutton his waistcoat for him.

"It was a long time ago, but of course, I remember that," his voice was hoarse as he watched her carefully.

"You lifted me onto the counter and started to remove my clothing there," she recalled, letting the words fall from her tongue like she were slowly casting a spell to convince him of their necessary need. "You carried me into the living room and we did it all in front of the fire on that soft fur rug."

"I love that you remember it as vividly as I do," he praised.

"Of course," she opened his waistcoat and slid it down his arms. "It was only a month ago."

"I might need you to recall a few things, at times."

"Or, what about when you took me for a ride on your motorbike and we stopped in that field to watch the clouds overhead before the storm?"

"I kept you on the bike," he began on his own; she pulled his shirt out of his pants to start on the bottom buttons.

"The wind was fierce that day and it made my skin cold," she explained, never looking away from his eyes as she captivated him with her own memory. "You ripped my panties off of me, lifted my skirt high to my waist and with very little convincing, took me right there over your motorbike."

"You were so gorgeous," Sirius said, running a hand down her cheek; his fingers traced softly under her jaw as she unbuttoned his shirt fully. "Your face in the shadowed sky radiated like a Grecian goddess to me. I loved the way you screamed my name into the heavens."

"I managed to balance rather well with my legs around your waist, but it was when you put me down and bent me over the seat that made it undoubtedly hard to stop," she cooed.

Sirius was numb from his toes to his fingertips as she replayed the image of their public coupling. She explained it better than he could remember and it was then that he realized images and memories were somewhat blurry to him. Not that he didn't want to remember, just that it was fifteen years ago, plus the five he was floating in oblivion and who can remember what they did day to day twenty years ago?

Her fingers lingered along the delicate cotton of his shirt, his chest visible between the two panels. Like she was opening a desired disguised present, she pressed her palms between the fabric and opened it to see him. Slowly sliding it off his shoulders and letting it fall to the floor, her hands smoothed over the chiseled planes of his torso, taking in each muscle and each curve that had changed.

He was tan and mature, his chest was well defined and adorned with intricate markings and scars from his days incarcerated. She bit her lip as she admired him, her fingers tracing lightly over each design, memorizing their placement. It was like touching a legend, a man she had only read about in stories, and now was at the touch of her fingertips. He was real and he was hers.

He submitted to her control, allowing her to touch him in any way she wanted. His breath caught as her fingers and their velvet touch caressed him. She made him feel alive again, appreciated and aroused. His senses were peaked, taking in each touch carefully, finding his resistance excruciating.

"Am I much different?" he asked, watching the way her eyes studied him like he were an intriguing puzzle.

"You are, but I think you're more beautiful now than before," she said. Her fingers slid around his neck to gently caress his ears. She loved how strong he developed. Far from the boy that took her to bed, he was now more of a man comfortable in his own skin. "This is the man I wanted to come home to. This is the man I was wishing for."

"It has been agony watching you," he kissed her passionately and with desperate need while holding her tightly to him.

She managed to break away for a second, her breath ragged and absolutely submerged in him, "I'm home."

They laid together side by side, Hermione on her stomach and Sirius on his back, both watching the other. Her hand was resting on his chest and he frequently pressed her palm to his lips, closing his eyes and reminding himself that she was not a hallucination from years of tormented memories and yearning. She was flesh and bone and lying beside him, where she wanted to be. They talked very little, asking questions and telling stories of their pasts. Sirius spoke most of the time, retelling the darker times of his solitude and his ultimate escape from Azkaban. Hermione would remain silent, gazing at him like he was a real life character from one of her history books. She was happy to tell him that his name had made it in the latest edition of "Hogwarts: A History" regarding the secret passages under the school, but sadly informed they had since been discovered and resealed.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Realistically, life was getting in the way of the reconnection. Hermione had no choice but to return to work, going and keeping her lips sealed on her personal new developments. Her head was nowhere near as focused as it should have been when dealing with the remaining aftermath of the Veil survivors (Sirius was one of the first cleared and released, due to his high profile case), so she volunteered her position with paperwork, taking in reports of how they were adjusting in society since their return.

When home in Grimmauld Place, Hermione slipped in through the front door to an allure of Italian spices from the kitchen down the hall. After hanging up her coat, she glanced into the sitting room to see Sirius sprawled out on the sofa with his feet propped up on the ottoman and a book lay open on his chest. Darkly handsome and oblivious to the occasional loud clink erupting from the kitchen, he dozed pleasantly as if he'd just nodded off in mid sentence.

Removing her shoes, Hermione was careful not to step on the hard wood floors that might wake him. His legs were stretched out in front of him, so she stepped over to straddle them, pulling her skirt up and easing herself slowly onto his lap. She bent her knees on either side of him and removed the book that was resting on his chest.

Her shifting weight woke him and his eyes opened on a relieving heavenly thought. His hands settled on her waist as she rested her arms around his neck. She said nothing to him, but kissed him as she shared in his silence.

Waking up to her straddling his lap and smelling her sweet intoxicating scent was only what he dreamed of. Her lips slid over his, her tongue to follow and he drank into her with the dire need of missing love. His hands wrapped around her waist tightly, pulling her against him so that she could feel him thrust just enough to remind her he was a patient man.

She smiled into the kiss at the feel of him, acknowledging his muscle hardening beneath her. She giggled innocently, gasping for breath and whispering, "In good time, my dear."

The tips of her hair tickled his cheeks and his breath was near to a pant when she pulled away. He crept a hand behind her head, tugging gently on her soft brown curls, "I missed you."

Pulling back and touching her forehead to his, her eyes fell heavy at the sound of his voice, "I missed you, too." She curled her fingers into his hair while running a free hand between them down his chest. She lingered over the top two buttons, eager to open his shirt.

Chuckling deeply at her eager playfulness, he stopped her fingers, "Sweetheart, Remus is home."

"That's his problem," she cooed, watching the way his brow perked.

They shared a moment before her dejected fingers left his fastenings and met her other wandering hand that combed through is black locks. Her face ducked closer, her bitten lip acting as an enticement for his passion. She leaned against him more, pinning him to the couch willingly as the beast within him started to stir. Her arms settled around his neck, her brown curls falling around her shoulders, shielding their show from onlooking portraits. Sirius complied and felt the fire surging through his veins. His hands slid to her rear and with an easy adjustment, shifted her closer to him.

With a slight thrust of his thighs, he reminded her of the hardening muscle sheathed only by expensive wool. He left nothing to the imagination, knowing that his actions were not foreign to her. It had just been so long that he had acted upon them with her; it felt like more old habits coming to surface. It was ages ago that he was able to feel her in this capacity and though, at times, it still felt very taboo, he knew that this was right in every sense of the word.

"Is this what you really want?" he whispered hoarse, his hands sliding up under her shirt and running a thumb over the clasp of her bra.

"I want you, Sirius," she moaned desperately against him.

"Perchance to Dream" Fan Fiction Trailer

2010-04-26T03:12:16Z

I've finished the trailer for "Perchance to Dream", the sequel to "Reason for Life". As I've been vague about the summary with this story, I've been relatively vague with the general premise. Although, some may learn of my intentions, I hope you'll stick around with me as I post it.

Enjoy! Chapter 2 should be up soon

Recycled Banner

2010-04-13T01:58:28Z

I'm very tickled to be using my old/new banner for this community. *WAVES TO ALL THE READERS* I made it for the hermionesirius but they're going to be updating their community, so I thought...I WILL USE IT! ;) Glad it's getting some good use, because I so love this banner. It came out great when I made it and was heartbroken that it wasn't on my site. But, it's found its way home after all. Hope you like it!

*back to work*

Just also wanted to say a special thank you to all of those old and new followers of this community. I'm baffled and flattered that you've stayed with me to read about my take on the pairing. I hope to meet some of you at Infinitus this summer in Orlando! (www.Infinitus2010.org )

xoxox

PERCHANCE TO DREAM (sequel to Reason For Life) Ch. 1

2010-04-11T15:06:00Z

Thank you to all of those that put in their two cents on what I should push on next. The sequel to Reason for Life or a new story called The Wrong Destiny. Since so many are just finishing Reason For Life, that one has won. I've compiled the working outline (there are still places that have holes, but I'm trying to dazzle that up) and here is the first chapter thus far. Thank you to all of those that have read my stories for so long, I am deeply touched. I hope to meet some of you at Infinitus in Orlando this year (yay! Wizarding World of HP!). For now, enjoy that I LOVE comments/reviews!

Title: PERCHANCE TO DREAM (sequel to Reason For Life)
Chapter: 1 "A Slow Beginning"
Ship: Sirius/Hermione
Summary: Sirius and Hermione are just settling into new, but old habits. They're adjusting to the changes between themselves, around others, in their relationship and where to go from here. Sirius has lived an entire life without Hermione and for her, she's just picked up a few days later. Through the thickness, Sirius only wants what is best for Hermione in all future aspects in her life. To Hermione, she'll take Sirius in whatever shape or form he is willing to give her. But, is it selfishness or love that turns them around? Sirius makes a choice and Hermione has to pick up the pieces....but, she's never going to be alone.

Perchance to Dream

Ch. 1: A Slow Beginning

Perchance to Dream (sequel to REASON FOR LIFE)

Ch. 1 - A Slow Beginning

The beginning of the new week was slightly overcast. The air was humid. The clouds overhead were thick with moisture waiting for any moment to tear open and release its vengeance on muggles that had forgotten to bring umbrellas along with them on their morning commute.

Hidden beyond abandoned buildings, the Ministry of Magic was unlocking its doors for their own Monday morning commuters. Weary-eyed wizards in formal robes and witches holding handbags walked briskly through the corridors, Apparating from various fireplaces along the path that brought them there from their homes. Windows along the underground city were lighting sporadically as occupants entered their offices around the four story long winking banner of the Minster of Magic, Kingsley Shacklebolt.

The last fireplace on the end lit up with green flames and a pretty brunette wearing a tan A-line skirt and white buttoned down shirt walked out unscathed. Her hair was pulled back in a tight bun, make-up was lightly applied and her shoes clicked firmly on the tile floor towards the set of elevators, falling in with the rest of the morning commuters. She went to stand in the back, her head down and clutching her messenger bag casually.

The elevator screeched and jolted, indicating that it was on the move between requested floors. Enchanted department memos were already flying in to hover overhead as the doors opened to let workers of the Ministry off. The requested floor for the Department of Mysteries was the last one the elevator went too, leaving Hermione the only passenger in the cab to step off and duck under some low flying memos. The hallway before her seemed long, longer than usual, as she found herself taking a little more time than usual to get to the double doors waiting for her at the end. The sound of her clicking shoes echoed off the metal walls around her, practically vibrating in her head as a reminder that she was at work.

She pushed through the double doors, bracing herself for whatever came her way, but today of all days, nothing could change her mood. She was elated, on cloud nine and in a private new world that hardly anyone knew about. Well, maybe a select few knew the history.

Hermione passed a set of windows that looked into a laboratory with both scientific instruments and odd magical machines that helped them decipher some answers they were looking for. Vials of memories, samples, specimens, ingredients, and odd oozing liquid decorated the shelves around the sterile room. She went into the second set of doors that emptied into a break room with shelves and closets for personal things, along with a partial kitchen, complete with a muggle coffee maker they had uncovered a year earlier.

"Well look who's back from her emergency vacation," said a high pitched female voice. Hermione smiled slowly and turned around to see Isa and Sean, a blonde witch in her late thirties and a balding wizard in his late twenties, sitting at a small circular table and clutching to cups of tea in their palms. Their faces were smirked, heads tilted and curious as all hell to where she had gone. "Care to enlighten those that you left behind?" Isa's voice was light humored and intrigued by the girl that never took a break.

"I'm sorry, guys," Hermione started as she hung up her bag on a waiting hook and then reached for her white lab coat that hung beside it. She followed their lead and walked over to make a cup of tea. She didn't plan on telling them much. "I just really needed a break."

"So, where did you go?" said the effeminate Sean. He was ready for gossip, if he could get any.

"Hawaii," she sighed. "Wanted to see some sunshine, lie on the beach, just relax, you know?"

"Just you?" Isa asked, she believe there was more to it. "Or, did you go with that ginger you used to date?"

"His name is Ron, and no he didn't come with me."

"So, are you going to tell us anything, or is it going to remain a mystery? Sorry Hermione, it was just odd of you to just run off with hardly any notice. We were fine without you, though we're glad you're back, Isa and I just had a great time making stories up where you went."

"I didn't go alone," Hermione whispered, dipping her tea bag gently into her cup. Her lips curved into a smile, thinking about her time on the beach with a particularly handsome older wizard wearing jeans and no shirt, walking along the shoreline of the island.

"Hermione, we have unanswered questions and there are metal tools with probes that we are not afraid to use if you don't start talking," Isa said with her strong German accent. The two conspired against her and watched her carefully like two kids about to be told the legend of Father Christmas.

She smiled sweetly, hiding her rose colored cheeks from prying eyes and nodded slowly. Some things she would keep to herself and some things she wanted to scream from the rooftops, but as she recalled her happy homecoming two weeks before her "two week emergency vacation", there were still some things that made the butterflies in her stomach erupt all over again, like they did when she was in nineteen eighty-one.

She turned to her audience of two and shook her head. "It's all very simple," she paused, "I met somebody."

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Number twelve Grimmauld Place was once a beacon of pride, arrogance and assumed royalty. The windows had since been replaced from the countless cracks, trees hanging around the structure had been cut back, the inside interiors had been completely refreshed and now standing in the foyer where an old grandfather clock struck, were two people that already had a lifetime together and now stood before a future unknown.

Deep in Sirius's heart, emotions he hadn't felt in nearly fifteen years (well, twenty if you add the blank years he was in the Veil) resurfaced for the young witch he held in his hands. As he pulled away to press their foreheads together to just listen to the peaceful stillness around them, he thought back fondly of first meeting her when he was twenty-one. He was a young man then, an arrogant aristocrat that had a knack for breaking all the rules set by his family blood and dying to fight for the greater good and live like each day was his last. He made a promise in the first war with the Order of the Phoenix alongside his best friend James Potter and a special vow to his wife Lily to protect their son Harry in the event of an untimely result.

Sadly, things could not be changed when Hermione went back to nineteen eighty-one with the Time Turner. The future had already been determined in the world that she lived in; Sirius had been destined to go to Azkaban without a trial for the murders of James and Lily Potter and Peter Pettigrew. She was not allowed to change the timeline, no matter what the outcome. Instead, she risked a great deal by "accidentally" getting involved with Sirius, confessing her love and receiving it in return. Rules that accompany the Time Turner were gambled, thus resulting in many long years of a believed death, prolonged romance and the fear of rejection once she returned to the Sirius she had grown up with.

Hermione's fingers slowly ran along the lapel of the chocolate colored jacket he wore. The blue shirt he wore beneath it was buttoned to the top, except for the first one where she was able to see a little of his Azkaban barcode tattoo on his neck. He smelled better than she remembered with rich cologne. The warmth of his hands around her neck gave her peace and satisfaction that he was letting her in again, even after all these years without her in this capacity.

"I can tell you everything, now," she said in a meek voice. Her heart was pounding strong.

He never wanted to close his eyes, fearful that his dream would be gone. He felt that if he looked away, even just for a second, she would disappear like mist at his fingertips. Still, he mustered the inner strength to push on to where they needed to be to start off fresh.

He kissed her forehead and said, "Let's go have a cup of tea...and talk." His voice was calm, at ease and with perfect volume, it was like he was finally getting exactly what he wanted.

She nodded and fell against his chest, following and letting him lead her down the hallway to the kitchen. She slid her hand into his like she always did and he took it slowly, interlacing their fingers together like he was discovering an old habit again.

"This is going to take some getting used to, again," he said as he looked down at their hands together.

Hermione smiled and said, "Take all the time you need."

He sat her down at the head of the table and fixed her a cup of tea while glancing over his shoulder every few seconds to make sure she was still there. His own cup was still on the table where he left it so abruptly the second he heard her call his name, but as he joined her at the table and lifted the forgotten cup to his lips, it was still warm.

Being with Hermione again, with this renewed feeling, was almost too surreal to comprehend. His eyes watched nearly every move she made, worried that it was another dream from so many years ago. Though he was only sitting next to her at the corner of the table, he didn't think he was close enough. He laid his free hand on the table, open for her to set hers in his and as their skin touched, it was like they were back in another time, again. She was just as beautiful, just as hopeful and her eyes showed nothing of doubt for him. The way she sat, the way she watched, the way she licked her lips, were all confirmation that she was really there and wanting to be there with him.

"We're really going to do this?" he asked, finally speaking for the first time since they were in the kitchen.

"I'm game," she said with a slight smirk. "I can't just turn any of this off, Sirius. I can't come back here and not be in love with you."

"And I don't really think that after holding onto you for so long, that I could either."

It warmed her heart to a new degree and she bit her lip as she looked away; her cheeks blushed pink.

His eyes couldn't leave her, even just for a second to glance out the window to a perched bird. He was drawn to her with an invisible magic that was too overpowering. "But, just for my sake, let me start over," he said, squeezing her hand in his. "I've had a lot of time to prepare for whatever end result, so allow me to bask in whatever joy can come out of this-"

"Whatever joy? Sirius, I'm with you. I'm ready to take any road, but I'm not leaving you. We've been through so much in such a little time, you've waited for me all these years, and we deserve each other." She put down her tea and used both hands to hold his. She leaned over the table, her hair falling before her shoulders in a romantic fashion.

"I am-" his voice choked for a moment and he closed his eyes to compose himself before continuing. "I am very glad you're saying all of this, because it's what I've wanted to hear, since I saw you in the shack."

The sound of Hermione's chair scraped across the floor and she was up and sitting on Sirius's lap within seconds. She wanted to be close to him, she wanted him to know that she was staying with him and taking on whatever life threw at them. She threw out all manners and straddled his lap, her arms resting around his shoulders so that she could look down into his beautiful grey eyes.

"Then, let's waste no more time."

"And do what?" he teased, an eyebrow quirked. For a moment, he was a shadow of the old Sirius, the younger Sirius sneaking out. The side of his mouth twitched for a second over the friction of her on his lap.

Hermione paused and tilted her head to the side like a puppy hearing a sound for the first time. She slowly grinned back with an air of flirt in her voice, "You're going to play games, already? Please tell me that hasn't been your grand scheme for when I got back. Tell me you had other things planned."

"I have other things planned," he humored. "I've also decided that in order to protect you, I'm withstanding from any intimate activity with you for at least two weeks"

"Two weeks? How is that protecting me?" she asked with a perked eyebrow.

"I need to make sure this is what you want. I don't think-"

"This is what I want!"

"I don't think I could live with myself knowing that after all this wait, you decide its best to be friends and I...well...I'd already tasted the forbidden fruit, to put it plainly."

"Oh, Sirius," she whispered. His name was heaven on her lips to him.

"I'd rather not know, than have to remember. I have done so well trying to remember, that if after all this time it doesn't end the way I have hoped, I'd rather not know what I was missing. Does that make any sense?" His words were clear, but they still sounded too constructed. His wants and needs and not-knowing were getting in the way of trying to rebuild what had been gone for so long.

Hermione nodded slowly, understanding the underlining meaning to his case, "It makes sense." She kissed him briefly, holding his lips to hers longer. "But, I'm not going to make the next two weeks easy on you."

He pushed their foreheads together, his hands running up and down her ribs, allowing his fingers to catch on her shirt, "Believe me, you're already making the issue hard enough as it is."

Her grin matched his creeping one and they shared their private moment together, reveling in each other as they sat in the ancient kitchen surrounded by memories.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

"You met somebody?" Isa and Sean said in unison, their eyes wide with shock.

Hermione grinned, but her eyes did not give her away as she stared into the steaming contents of her cup. She remained where she was, leaning against the counter where the modern coffee pot and toaster were plugged in. She dared not step any closer to the open claws of her gossiping co-workers that were chomping at the bit for juicy news to spread.

"Hermione Granger, you better start talking, or else I'm going to make some stuff up. Or better yet, I'll call your friend Harry Potter, there. I'm sure he's got some gossip to share." Sean tried to leverage something, anything, hoping for a bone, but he came up dry as soon as Isa spoke.

"Empty threats, Sean," Isa droned. "You know Potter would never spill anything on his precious, Hermione. Those two are like glue. He'd never dish on her."

Hermione smiled broadly again, knowing that what she kept was a real jewel, "Well, he might on this one."

"That's it, what's his Floo address?"

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

The clock ticked its steady pace in the foyer by the front door. Portraits on the wall started to settle in for their early night, but before they could, they traveled between frames, peering into various rooms about Grimmauld Place, looking for the topics of conversation.

In the sitting room decorated in warm furnishings of an antiqued chandelier, a proud mantle depicting pictures of happy memories of Harry's maturity and good friends, a well stocked bar and under the wide picture window decorated in heavy curtains positioned a large sofa with velvet cushions where Sirius and Hermione sat.

Her body leaned on its side, her legs were tucked under and her head rested against the back of the couch. She gazed heavenly at him, watching his lips as he spoke. Her hand was covered with his as it rested between them where the sofa cushions split.

"Are you really here with me?" he asked. His feet were propped on the ottoman in front of him as he shared her relaxed ease; his head rested against the back of the couch while looking at her. "It wasn't but this morning that we were platonic friends and now..." She only smiled. "I've loved you for so long; I cannot begin to tell you the torture I went through when you were thirteen." His voice was quiet, almost desperate, like his soul was confessing its deepest, darkest, angriest secrets to her and with nothing but adoring sympathy, she watched him carefully. "I believed you first to be dead, then I briefly imagined you being your own daughter, but it was Remus who helped me through it all." He squeezed his eyes shut, like he was trying to see the pictures he'd set before him. "Then, it all made sense," he opened his eyes for her. With his free hand, he reached out to run his fingers down the side of her face, cherishing his living dream. "I knew that one day I'd have to face the reality that you were not going to come back to me."

"And yet, here I sit."

Their conversation would go in and out, allowing silence to bring them closer together. Never once did Sirius look away, fearful that his mind was playing tricks on him and he could no longer decipher what was dream and what was reality. Especially when it was something he dwelled on for so long.

Finally, her eyes drifted closed. Her steady breath indicated that she had fallen asleep while sitting there with him on the couch, listening to stories and just talking together for the first time in a long time for him. For at least another half hour, he watched her sleep there next to him. His hand never left hers and his fingers continued to lightly caress the back of her hand. It appeared that all her traveling had finally caught up to her and it was time for her body and mind to rest after a long day's journey through time.

Sirius was careful not to disturb her as he slowly got up off the couch. Having already removed his jacket, he thought about laying it over her as a blanket, but decided she deserved a proper night's sleep. He lifted her very carefully, holding her tightly to him with his arms under her knees and behind her back. He took her up the stairs and down the hallway to her own bedroom. As gently as placing flower petals on thorns, he placed her into the comfortable confines of her bed. He pulled the covers up to her shoulders and watched as she settled in on her own, turning halfway into the pillow her head met.

Gazing for a lasting picture, he leaned over to place a kiss on her forehead, when she stirred enough to realize that he was leaving. She murmured something inaudible and reached out to the empty space next to her.

"Don't leave. Stay," she whispered, barely opening her eyes. Her hand patted to the pillow next to her.

A strong surge began to settle in his stomach, like an empty hole was being filled. He had no reservations to lying next to her, but this was almost more than he could handle on the first day. Still, he had no reason to run for the young twenty-something deep within was jumping about anxiously, despite his mental forewarnings.

He removed his shoes, loosened the cuffs and collar of his shirt and climbed on the bed next to her, remaining above the covers. Her routine took over and she snuggled closer, pining for him to take her in. Like another old habit beginning to surface, he held her close, draping an arm over her waist and closed his eyes to dream away next to her.

Outside the window to Hermione's bedroom, three perched birds rustled their feathers and took flight, joining their friends in formation to travel to the warmer south. Their jostling on the branch scraped across the glass of the window, causing its occupants to stir awake just as their eyelids met the overcast sunlight trying its hardest to seep through.

Hermione's eyes fluttered as she realized that the day had begun and she wasn't already up. She thought briefly of work, but thought of sending an owl when she went down for morning tea. The pressing issue at hand, who was still pretending to sleep, was more important and he needed her attention at home.

She smiled as his eyelids tried to remain closed for just a second longer. His face was handsome with a few age lines telling his stories of heartbreak and solitude. She longed to make him happy, to help him forget a past that he had to endure wrongly.

"Sirius...time to wake up," she whispered gently; her finger tips traced the contours of his face.

He didn't open his eyes, but he grumbled, "No, go back to sleep...too early."

Her gentle fingers slid to the side of his face where she rested her palm against his cheek and leaned in to kiss him awake. His response was good and he kissed her back submitting to her will. She slipped her tongue between his lips, encouraging him to push against her harder when his hands slid tightly around her. Her arms slinked around his shoulders and with little effort rolled onto her back as he pressed on top of her. Carefully shifting his weight, he eased himself onto her as his hands felt every curve of her body. He teased himself with pressing against her thigh so that she might understand what she did to him, but he refrained.

He kissed her lips, her cheek and then buried himself into her neck where his name was whispered into his ear with a volume of quiet passion. Quickly discovering that it was getting harder and harder to stop his train of desire he tempted himself with, he regrettably pulled away to see her practically trembling in his arms. However, it was a good tremble. She looked up to him hopeful, desperately wanting him to continue on the path they were on, but it was the look of desperation on his face that she knew she could not tempt. The second he stopped abruptly, it was like a small spark in his mind shocking him to remember what he had promised the day before.

Their breath was ragged and desperate together, like they'd sprinted in a marathon and had been given and early finish line. Passion welled up between them; no doubt what they were capable of.

"I wish you could feel the butterflies in my stomach, right now," Hermione whispered, breaking their silence. She reached for his hand and placed it against her chest, "Can you feel how fast my heart is beating?"

Never breaking her stare, he turned her hand onto his own chest and said, "Can you feel my heart beating? It beats because of you."

Her face cringed with his sincerity, wishing she could take away their time apart. It was almost too unfair to believe she hadn't missed a blink, but he had missed so many more years.

They found their way downstairs after showers and feeling refreshed to start their day together after a morning tea. They entered the kitchen laughing, holding hands and being greeted by the other occupant of the house.

"Good morning," Remus said as he turned to the much changed scene. He had his reservations at first, but saw the smile on her face and the intimacy of their hands and he knew that things had gone swimmingly.

"Remus!" Hermione said with a thrill. She hurried over to him and threw her arms around his neck, holding him close and welcoming his warm embrace. While pulling away she exclaimed, "You knew! You always knew!"

He chuckled in their embrace, "I knew, but I shouldn't have said anything to you back then. I broke the rules with you, so I guess we're even."

"Whatever you say," she smiled. "Thank you, by the way."

"For what?"

"Just, thank you and I'm sorry."

"Sorry, for what?" Remus asked, just releasing Hermione to let her fix some tea.

"Hermione, just stop. She's talking about James and Lily," Sirius solemnly said to him.

"Oh, well that," Remus said with a sadder tone, thinking back on the issue, "we've learned to deal with it. There was nothing-" he caught himself from breaking. "There was nothing you were allowed to do at the time."

"That's what I told her." Sirius took a seat at the wooden table, waiting for his tea. He took note that it was being prepared for him when he noticed Hermione take down an extra cup.

"Right," said Remus, shaking his head and not trying to dwell on it too much. "It seems that you two are okay? I had my doubts, I'll be honest, because I know how Sirius can get." There was a tinge of highness in his voice taking a quick jab to his friend, but his thoughts fell on Hermione again. He walked over to her and dipped his head, "Are you alright?"

Hermione nodded to her friend and said, "I am and he's getting there. We're going to be great."

"You're going to have to speak up, otherwise I can't eavesdrop," Sirius said, leaning back in his chair.

"Good to hear," he nodded and waved to the couple, "I just popped in for a moment to make sure the house was still standing. I'm off to break the news to Tonks; she was chomping at the bit wanting to know why I was so anxious last night. She blamed it on the cycles, but I told her it wasn't about me."

"Wait a minute, she was there, Remus. Doesn't she know? Doesn't she remember?" Hermione asked, spinning around and still holding a spoon in her hand.

"Well, she was there, yes, but she doesn't remember. I sort of took the liberty of using a memory charm on her when she was a little girl, in the event she saw you somewhere down the line." Remus shrugged his guilt and gave a friendly smile to both his friends and he was out the kitchen door and out of the house.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Hermione gazed off in the distance as the insistent questions flew at her. Still, she did not budge, nor did she sit down. Her co-workers were pining for information, a treat, a morsel, just something to let them spread it like wildfire and oh, it was a juicy.

"Hermione, I've worked with you for two years and this is groundbreaking news for you. So, what's he like?" Isa asked Hermione, folding her legs and letting her lab coat open between her knees. She rested back, preparing for a good story.

"Well, the normal sort. Black shoulder length hair, about five--nine, tattoos, your age Isa-"

"He's older than you? Hermione, this is really out of your mold, dear," Sean said with a flick of his wrist. "What does he do?"

"He's sort of between jobs, now," Hermione mused, more for herself than for them.

"He's unemployed?" Isa unfolded her legs and the heel of her shoes clicked hard on the floor. "Oh, girl, dump him. Forget it. Mystery getaway or not, he's a freeloader."

"No," Hermione said quietly, "he's not. He's been around, been alone for far too long."

"It sounds to me like you're already in love with this guy," Sean said, as if worried and about to alert the authorities.

Hermione nodded, "Oh, absolutely. Have been for quite awhile. Longer than I thought."

"Hermione, take it from someone who knows: get out now. Unless he's rich and famous, there's no reason to be with him."

She shrugged and walked to the door leading out to the hallway, she turned to face her co-workers and said, "Who's to say he's not rich and famous? Or shall I say, infamous?"

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o00o0o0o0o0o

The sun was slowly sinking down into the horizon after a long day spent meandering around central London. One by one, streetlamps were coming on automatically to illuminate the roadways and sidewalks. Critters of all kinds began to creep their way from the darkness that harbored them during the day.

Walking along Regent Street together, Sirius carried a couple of shopping bags of things they'd picked up on their outing. Hermione held his hand tightly, interlacing their fingers over and over again, squeezing every few seconds to remind them that they really were there together. She hung on his arm like an ornament, the side of her cheek resting against his shoulder and her free hand wrapping around his upper arm feeling the expensive fabric of his corduroy jacket. She could hear the jingle of his pocket watch as they walked in tandem.

"I truly feel like we've not skipped a beat," she said, her cheek still resting against his shoulder. "Well, at least for me."

He nodded and turned to lay a kiss upon her head, "We've been apart for far too long."

"Then let me do whatever I can to make it up to you," she whispered, her eyes closing as they walked, taking in the rhythm they shared as their shoes clicked together on the pavement.

"You don't have to do anything, my love. Let me do what I can to help you adjust to the different me."

"You're not much different," she said lifting her head up to glance at him. "More like, improved. You're older, but I kind of like the idea of you growing out of your childish antics. I think I much prefer this man," she smiled for him, flirting subtly. "I know some things have changed, but there's not anything I couldn't live without."

"Oh, I'm sure you'll find some things, eventually," he mused, stopping her before they walked the crosswalk. Muggles around them went about their business, listening to their iPods and making general chit chat with their company.

Her mind started turning like a hamster wheel and before they walked across the road, she turned to take his hand into hers. She faced him seriously and momentarily scanned the faces of those that passed them. "Let's get something very clear. I've come back from a life changing experience. Some of the things I did were wrong-"

"-some of the things?" he interrupted with a lopsided grin.

"Virtually, everything having to do with you went to absolute shit, but that's neither here nor there," her eyes pleaded with him to hear how serious she was about to be. "I'm not proud of it, but the night before I left, the night before you went to Azkaban...I almost erased it all." She swallowed before continuing, "I had my wand to your temple, ready to change your memories to have you never have met me."

Sirius swallowed, his eyes dark and concerned, his brow furrowed, "Hermione."

"All the time I was with you, at your house, kissing you, laughing with you, the Sunday nights, those were all wrong. I never should have gone back and I never should have gotten involved in your life the way I did. I carry so much guilt from the night I left, the night I saw you ride off, that I wish I had erased your memories."

"Then, why didn't you?" he whispered, shaking his head slowly to understand. He could see the fragile state she was putting herself into.

"Because, I was selfish. I was selfish to believe that you would still be here, to believe that you would want me, after you found out my secret. I weighed it out over and over to see if what you needed was happiness, even for a little while. I knew you were going to go to Azkaban and it just killed me inside to know that you were going to set off and think of me and I didn't even belong in your time. I did nothing-"

Sirius hushed her as she started a slow silent cry. She turned away, unable to look at him as she composed herself. She had confessed more in one day, than she had planned to over the course of several months. His voice was soothing to her ears and he released his hand from her tight hold to lay it on her cheek to wipe her tears away.

With a few things off her chest, she felt somewhat lighter. The emotions were still bundling tight within her, but the wound was still fresh from leaving him to ride off to waiting authorities. The vision of him sitting on his motorcycle, glancing back to tell her he loved her replayed over and over in her memory, for it was only a few nights early. A lifetime had passed and there he stood before her: rescued and breathing. She reached out to touch his chest, to feel his heart beating strong.

"You saved me three different times in three different ways, Hermione. You're the reason I stand here, now." She shook her head, but let him raise her chin to see him. "I'm so very glad that you didn't erase my memories of you, otherwise what would I have to live for?"

"You've got Harry," she whispered back. Several muggles walked passed them as they remained on the sidewalk together.

"I've got Harry and I would die for Harry," he said quiet and convincing. "Now, I have you and if I didn't know about you, I'd just be that perverted uncle-like friend that would watch you from afar, anytime you came around him. Believe me, it's much better this way." She smiled as tears started to slowly cascade down her cheek, reflecting the half moon in the moisture. "You sacrificed a lot for me, Hermione. Over the years, I've learned to realize that."

A POLL:

2010-03-11T17:11:19Z

A POLL (but, without the thingys) for the readers of the community and in the name of Sirius/Hermione. I am in no way tooting my own horn, but since there are quite a few on this community that watches my updates (I'm wicked flattered), I thought I would ask you lot...

I've started 2 different stories, both about three chapters in, both with working outlines, but neither one has been sent out to be beta'd again. So, here's my question for you:

Do you want me to start a brand new Sirius/Hermione story?

or

Start the sequel for Reason For Life?

I'm about the same into both, but do not want to put both stories up at the same time if I have readers. It's way too confusing when you're reading just one author. So, I'll let the majority decide.

The Wrong Destiny Trailer #1

2010-02-25T04:20:05Z

Well, as it is, I've put together another working outline for a fic I had in mind when I was finishing "Reason For Life". It's not the sequel (though, I do have some plot bunnies leaping around for it), but another. This is the first post regarding it as well as a re-post of the trailer I made as a lark for it. I intend on doing another trailer, with the corrected title. At the time, I called it "The Wronged Destiny", but I'm only adjusting it a bit to "The Wrong Destiny". A play on words mean a lot, and I didn't want to give off the wrong connotation for the story. As you see below, I have 2 pairings listed. Know that my stories always gravitate towards Sirius/Hermione and that's the only clue I'm giving you.

As always, thank you for your encouragement and reviews (good and bad). I feed off them, like so many wonderfully creative authors I share this ship with.

Check back for updates...

Title: The Wrong Destiny
Pairing: Sirius/Hermione, Viktor/Hermione
Rated: NC17 (overall)
Summary: Hermione's life has a new purpose: Quidditch Wife. She is Viktor Krum's number one fan. Through thick and thin, she's stood by his side, focusing her world around his. She's far from home, both mentally and physically, and never had time to catch up with the things she has missed out on. Sirius has been back from The Veil for almost two years before seeing him again, among other things. She's also missed out on a bit of herself and the light that once showed the way has all but flickered out and taken the side to flashbulbs and news reporters. Sirius becomes a friend, a very trusting platonic friend that still sees a bit of the girl he remembered paling around with his godson. They form a strong relationship with the grounding that they can only be friends. Though Viktor has skeletons in his closet and Hermione insists on sticking her head in the sand, it's Sirius that helps her rediscover herself. In the meantime, it is them discovering that her destiny with Viktor was wrong all along.

REASON FOR LIFE Ch. 31

2010-01-05T03:10:25Z

Chapter 31 - A Life's Work Begun

*FOUR YEARS LATER*

Nineteen year old Hermione was dusting along the edge of the bookshelf that sat on the first landing just to the left of the stairs. It was old and raggedy, but refused to be moved because of the neat look it had. Worn shelves that were previously lined with century old books on the Dark Arts were now catalogued with books of gardening and favored muggle authors. Scorched marks stood out of the dark cherry wood as a light reminder of Sirius dueling with his brother Regulus when they were children; a keen memory they wanted to keep alive, even years after Sirius's death.

"Hermione?" Remus called from the first floor. He'd come out of the kitchen with a dish rag in his hand.

"I'm up here," she called over the banister, flourishing her duster at him like a wand. "Doing muggle work!"

He smiled as he looked upon her, admiring the way she said it so lightly. "An owl came for you. I think it's from Ron, because it's got a heart shaped box attached to it."

"You can have the chocolates, Remus. I'm just tired of letting him think everything will be okay, as long as bribery is attached," she explained, shaking her head. Her waves fell in front of her shoulders as she leaned further over the banister.

"He's just a boy, love. He doesn't know any better," Remus soothed, looking up at her like Juliet in the window. He shook his head at the fact that she was wasting her time with someone that no longer stimulated her.

"I know, I know. But, love conquers all, doesn't it?" she said passively, leaning on her elbows. The duster hung in her hand.

"Yes...and no," he said hesitantly. "It doesn't stand a chance, if you're not happy."

"I know. Maybe I should just throw it all away and run away with you!" She smiled sweetly.

He smiled back platonically and added, "Perhaps, but I'm not your type."

She knew his sincere smile was harmless and she never thought more from him. He was always her friend, her trusted friend that saw things the same and it was comforting to have that. "No, Remus, I think someone like you would be just what I needed."

He shook his head, knowing a few secrets of his own, "Only if someone like me was worthy to deserve someone like you." She smiled again and teased her duster above him before turning around to continue tackling dust bunnies the size of ping pong balls.

The purple feathers of her cleaning wand brushed passed titles that she couldn't help but read. She perused the bound edges out of habit, in the event that something had snuck their way up on the shelf worth reading, or rereading. Pausing over a blank title, but taking a second glance over it, she reached a finger to pull it out of its line up.

Laying her duster down on the shelf it came off of, she opened it up in her hand, listening to the bounded paper breaking open from a few years worth of settling closed. Blank pages looked back at her, strengthening her accusation.

"I thought I'd lost this," she said to herself, taking her real wand to point at the pages. "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."

Just as she thought, the pages came to life with the handwritten ramblings of a teen witch. The first pages brought her back to when she first received the book as a present and the last entry reminding her of her stay over the holidays at Grimmauld Place when she was fifteen. The entry went on about her view of Sirius and his solitude in the house. A private life she never got the chance to tell him she understood.

Hermione flipped to the last entry, the one she made the night before she left the house as she sat alone late in the night on the couch in the sitting room. Everyone else had gone to bed early that evening, hoping to regain some sleep lost during their holidays for a fresh new start for the new term. She remembered vividly how Kreacher's outer-inner monologue had accused her of leaving undesirable scents on the ancient furniture that reeked of "mudblood", a term she had gotten used to hearing from uncivilized company.

Her eyes scanned down over her own words, but it was the small script on the opposite page that caught her eye. There, not in her hand, were two words and a signature.

"Maybe someday. - Sirius"

Her hands clutched the book tighter, her fingers pressing hard on their grip. Shortness of breath came and her knees got weaker. She dropped herself to the first step to sit down, newly fearful of her height and the long way down. She felt drained, emotionless and just numb. The man she had thought about through the years was speaking to her from beyond the grave.

That was the day Hermione decided to put her request to be transferred to Level Nine: Department of Mysteries. It was then that she began her work; her mission undoing what wrongs had been done. Most importantly, she was about to set her mind to rescuing those that had fallen beyond the Veil, making Sirius her most concentrated specimen.

*PRESENT DAY*

The day was cool and windy. Leaves were falling must faster these days and Remus looked up into the sky to see the way the clouds were rushing by overhead. Soon they would be amongst the cold holidays with fires and friends. As he took out his wand and tapped the door handle, he was careful to look both ways up the walk in case any onlookers were lurking behind.

He pushed the door open and in the foyer he saw the fallen body of Hermione. Her backpack lay not too far from her as if it was just dropped to her side, her clothing different than when she left a few hours ago and around her neck was a black chord with a familiar looking necklace that he hadn't seen in years.

"You're home now," he whispered, checking her forehead and overall statistics. It appeared that she was just over tired and could no longer stand, for all her body wanted to do was sleep.

Very carefully, Remus kicked the door shut behind him and lifted Hermione up into his arms. She did not fall like a broken doll, but managed to wrap her hands around her carrier's neck, mumbling small incoherent sentences.

"Remus...have to see...Sirius," she murmured.

"Soon enough love. He's close. Just rest," he whispered carrying her up the stairs. They creaked heavily under each foot, cursing him with the doubled weight at a time.

When he reached her bedroom door, he nudged it open with his knee and went to lay her down in her bed. He contemplated changing her clothes, but settled on only removing her shoes. He pulled a loose blanket up over her shoulders, watching as she took to the comforts quickly and turned her face into her own pillow.

Upon returning down the stairs, Remus watched Sirius coming in through the door. Carrying a few groceries, Sirius nodded to his friend and continued down the hallway to the kitchen at the end without saying a word. Though, he may have heard something of a light hum.

A few minutes behind his friend into the kitchen, Remus braced himself with how he was going to tell Sirius that Hermione was home. Everything was going to change in a matter of minutes, or everything was going to remain the same, depending on how the two interacted. It was difficult to say.

Sirius quietly tinkered away in the kitchen, moving slower than he normally did, putting away tea bags and a few food items. His movements were slow and concentrated, like his brain was moving too quickly between things, even the simplest task was somewhat difficult to manage. He was either walking on air or eggshells, depending on how you watched the way he carefully moved the milk on a shelf in the refrigerator like it were made of shattered glass.

Remus watched his friend carefully, closely guarding the news. He pulled out a chair, making it scrape along the century worn floor, to gracefully slide in to ready himself. "Sirius," he began.

Like he'd been snuck up on, Sirius jolted just slightly and immediately turned around, still holding a wrapped package of tea bags in his left hand. "Remus, don't do that!"

He had been serious and collected up until now, but it was the funny expression on his friend's face that made Remus smirk just a bit. He sat there looking up at his friend with his palms open and honest, surprised more than anything that he had startled him. It was nearly comical with the way Sirius had wrapped himself up so tight in the anticipation of Hermione's inevitable return, it was almost cruel not to tell him, just so the poor bloke could relax just a bit.

"My friend, take a moment to collect yourself, for you look incredibly spent."

"Remus, I don't have time for your criticism. Go do something else useful," said Sirius, still clutching his tea bags protectively before walking across the kitchen to the pantry.

With a slight nod and a genuine smile, he finally announced, "She's home."

The sound of tea bags hitting the floor echoed off the stony walls. The clocked ticked loudly in the hallway, making every second count longer and longer. The air felt dense and had nearly stilled; the tension already building up to an undetermined thickness.

Sirius froze for a few seconds before laying a hand on his chest and the other through his hair nervously. The moment he'd waited for so long had finally come and he was without any words with how to approach it. He'd gone over in his head what he would say the first he saw her, but with the very idea that she was back in the house with the newfound knowledge of their love affair and everything dangerous around it had left him with barely enough air to breathe.

"Did you see her? Did she ask for me? What did she say? Where is she?" The words tumbled out of Sirius like they were on fire. Barely comprehending anything, Remus just chuckled, amused by his friend acting like a school girl himself. "Fuck you, Remus!"

"There you are, I was getting worried," he teased. "She was exhausted, both mentally and physically and so I helped her up to bed."

"She's in bed? She's sleeping? She is here, though?"

"She is resting, yes. She needs it, right now. The poor girl must have collapsed at the foot of the stairs. I don't gather she was there long. You just missed her."

"Did she say anything? Is she alright?" Sirius took a few steps closer to his friend, reaching out for the chair that sat opposite him.

"She was fine, friend," Remus assured.

Sirius slowly slid into the chair before him, paled and like he'd just received the biggest shock of his life. His eyes looked on, staring at a ragged sot on the long wooden table in front of him. Once seated, his hands splayed out in front of him, grounding himself to keep it together. His insides started to tumble and as his eyes began to dry up, he finally remembered to blink.

Remus saw his cue to leave Sirius to his thoughts and let the two have their time, regardless of the outcome. Eventually Hermione would wake up, or Sirius would wake her up and they would have to come to terms with where they stood - good or bad. He passed his friend, almost to the door when he looked back to Sirius still staring in the opposite direction.

"She said your name, Sirius," he said calmly, still staring at the back of his friend's head. "I'll be at Tonks's if you need me."

Sirius heard the front door open and close, a few portraits whisper and finally he was left alone in the house...with Hermione only a few floors above him. His subtle movements were only to move away a few stray hairs that had fallen into his sightlines and as he reflected on everything, a small slight smile began to pass over his lips. Like prayers finally being answered, it sunk into him like warm water on the coldest day and it soothed his inner core that she had said his name.

For the longest time, he held onto the thoughts of her diary and her musings regarding him back then. Why else would she have been driven to rescue him or even see him in a painful past? So many questions without enough answers to determine her state. Instead, he was forced to sit in silence and mull things over until she came to him.

Sirius slowly stood, after he had made up his mind to wait for her, to fix himself a cup of tea. It wouldn't settle his nerves enough, no, only Firewhisky could calm him now, but at least it would mentally prepare and keep his mind occupied for a bit longer. The answer was always in a cup of tea. So, with that, he very carefully tucked his chair back under the table he sat at and began taking a cup down from the cupboard. With a moment's hesitation, his fingers lingered over the cup and just in case, he reached up to take a second cup down to ready for potential company.

Warm beams of sunlight started to bask their healing powers over the sleeping young witch. Her curls, a wild mane like a tigress, spread over her pillow as her hand started to reach up to touch her lips. The soft touch of her own hand woke her and her eyes fluttered open into the sunlight. While slowly coming back to life, her eyes started to focus, her mind started to balance and her memories were beginning to drift back into place.

Her eyes moved wildly in her head before she shot up from under the blanket. She looked all around her, recognizing the guestroom as her current bedroom in Grimmauld Place. The Grimmauld Place in the year 2001. Over to the side, two suitcases were placed carefully with dirty clothes from her previous residence. On the vanity, a few pictures were pinched in the frame of the mirror, displaying happier times with her, Harry and Ron from Hogwarts days.

She was home.

If her feet could take to the floor any faster, she’d have flown to her bedroom door. With an unexplainable strength, she threw open the door and ran to the railing in the hallway that peered down below to the bottom floors. The gigantic chandelier hung magnanimously down the center as fresh portraits ogled at its grandeur. Her hands clutched the railing tightly, as if she were to suddenly fall off the great height. Her throat was dry, but she pushed through, her heart racing a mile a minute.

“SIRIUS!” she bellowed down below.

Her voice rang through the house with such an operatic sound it was almost hypnotizing. The portraits jumped with a start as they looked around to find the voice that had called their master's name. Somewhere on her floor, Kreacher dropped a dish, causing a muffled crash. Without waiting for any response, she started down the stairs with great haste.

The downstairs kitchen door was blasted through with equal strength. At the sound of her voice calling his name, he immediately dropped his tea cup and took to his feet. Hurrying down the hallway to the foot of the stairs, he looked above him, eager to see her. Once their eyes met and he saw that she was flying down the staircase with furious tension, he froze where he stood, right before the first step.

She gripped the railing of the old wooden squared staircase tighter, using it to guide her safely to the bottom floor. She practically broke into a run once she saw him coming in from the hallway, waiting for her like a prince in a dream. He looked so rugged, so handsome, only a few years older, but practically perfect in her eyes that she was already wondering if he was still the same. She wondered if after all his years away from her, if she would still have the same effect on him, or if they harbored the same chemistry they once did. His hair was longer now, just past his shoulders with a slight curl. His face a bit sharper, more refined and not quite as youthful when she'd left him. Still, he was heaven in her eyes and he was there waiting for her. Standing proud and alert, he'd come when he'd been called.

She was getting closer to the bottom stair now. The railing her lifeline. He waited, he knew. She wondered, she needed to know.

But, when she got to the end of the staircase, she stopped. As if an invisible rope had pulled her back from leaping at him like a frolicking school girl, she stopped abruptly on the last step. She could not move, she was frozen on the spot with nowhere to go. But, she didn't want to leave. She wanted to look at him, admire him, talk to him, hug him, love him, caress him...but, he was different now.

Far from the young man with life in his blood, far from the twenty-two year old that thrived on riding his motorcycle and hanging with Stubby Boardman. He was a grown man now, a man in his late thirties, a man with a life, a past, and it was no place for someone like her to take up residence. She doubted everything she had set her heart on down to the detail of their attire not matching with her in jeans and a jumper and he decked out in a fitted jacket, dark buttoned shirt, vest, pocket watch and charcoal colored trousers.

The two just stood there like statues, blinking once or twice to encourage something, anything, just whatever in order to make these moments not last as long as they felt. It could have been hours that they didn't speak, but it had only been seconds. She wanted to say something, anything, but was so scared deep down that she was sure he hated her. He must have hated every fiber in her body for what she'd done, what she'd caused, or what she'd known and not bothered to change a thing about what had happened.

Everything that had happened had been the reason why she stood there now. Standing there, because he knew her and had once loved her. She stood there, because the life he had after her was still the past she'd witnessed and was still the reason he had remained her friend throughout her adolescent years. He was there, because it had all happened...even before she left. He had always known. He knew that the reason she stood there before him at that moment, was because she didn't know what to think.

When she had reached the last stair, she could barely breathe. It was incredibly surreal seeing him for the first time through different eyes and she could only wonder what he was thinking in return. She had so many opportunities to change the way things had ended up, so many chances to go back and save James and Lily, so many times to tell him everything...but, she couldn't. Now, only now, did she consider the amount of hatred and loathing he must have harbored for her. So many years had passed for him to say what he had wanted, and now the moment had come. Would he yell, scream, or hex her? Would he banish her from the house of his fathers and forbid her to ever see Harry again?

As he only watched her, like she to him, she felt her insides quivering. She felt no strength, no power, only sadness and pity for the man before her. She wanted him to stop hurting, wanted him to return to the person he once was, and wanted more than anything to know how special he truly was, even if she wasn't the person to tell him. Oh, how he must have hated her. With his taunting lips, gently curled hair and amazingly strong hands that clenched into fists at his sides, he remained her constant tease. But, he was different, now. Different, but exactly the same.

Finally, she was able to muster enough strength to speak to him, dreading his ticking time bomb reaction. Her voice was almost a desperate whisper. "I wish I could have told you."

He was still; he said nothing. He just watched her, waiting, but for what?

Very timidly, she raised a hand up to reach out to him as if he were a snake about to attack. Her hand was hesitant and twice she had pulled it back slightly, but she needed something, some connection, some thrill of being close to him, even if it were only the tips of her fingers grazing over the fabric of his coat. Her throat was burning, her eyes wetting, mentally pleading to him to say something, anything, just give her a sign that he heard her voice. Instead, he stood still enough to believe he was petrified.

She took another deep breath, hoping she would get a response, for her insides were blazing. She wanted to know if he was the same man after all those years, she needed to know if he tasted just as delicious, or if the way he held her made her feel safe and loved just like always, but she knew the chances were just so slim as every second passed without something from him. Her heart beat so fast, she was practically short of breath. She held onto the railing of the staircase tightly with her other hand, fearful that her legs would give out under her.

"I never meant to hurt you, Sirius," she confessed, gazing into his misty grey orbs. "I love you and I'm sorry if you-"

He swooped in on her like an eagle; she never saw his hands reach out to hold her face. He kissed her fiercely, demanding and with dire need like a man that had gone without water for years.

Oh gods! It was the same!

The same tender lips, the same taste, the same haunting whispers of an unshaven cheek. She felt his hands traveling down over her shoulders and to her waist the way they used to, wrapping his strong arms tightly around her to pull her close against his body. She felt safe, she felt wanted, she felt desired and she couldn't get enough of him. She couldn't get enough of the way he slid his tongue over hers or the panting between hot kisses that were barely enough to satisfy. It was so much better than before, he was a new Sirius.

His hold on her was enough to practically lift her off the bottom step. She slid her arms around his neck mechanically, pulling herself closer so that there was hardly any space between them. Her fingers ran through his hair, lightly scratching and pulling affectionately and with desperate need. He growled against her mouth, hungry for her passion and eager to get as much out of her as possible. Their bodies were tight and close.

Unbelievable emotions began to overwhelm him for being eternally grateful to hold her again, after so many unkind years. He tried his best to hide his weakness, but failed as his eyes felt moist and his heart beat fiercely in his chest. His passion with her was more than he had anticipated. It was enough to dismiss all of this between them and get on with discussing the rest of their lives from that moment on. But, instead, he held her firmly, not wanting to let her go. She was the very same as he had remembered, because it was the same Hermione. The same everything.

She tore at him with equal need, kissing and praising with each slight move. Together they breathed in each other's aura, savoring their reunion, running their noses together and kissing every neglected feature.

"I have waited so long for you, love," he whispered hoarsely, pulling away to frame her face with his hands. He stole small sneaking kisses every second he could as he pressed his forehead against hers.

She pet him affectionately, "I can't believe you waited." Tears cascaded down her cheeks like thin romantic waterfalls.

"I would have waited longer-"

"I'm so sorry I couldn't tell you. I wanted to-"

"I know you did," he soothed, touched by her compassion and honesty. He loved feeling the silky texture of her hair through his fingers, again. It was like finding a treasure one lost so many years ago.

"I died inside when I saw you ride off, Sirius."

"I thought you were dead," his voice broke. "I thought Voldemort got to you, just like Lily and James."

"I wouldn't have left you if I had a choice!" she begged. She surveyed his entire face, running a free hand down his cheek, afraid he would disappear into thin air and he was just a dream. She didn't want him to have any doubts in her.

"I know, love," he consoled, "But, it's done now."

Seeing her tears only touched him more. He kissed her nose, her cheeks, and her lips just one more time before looking into the same loving eyes from so many years ago. He had only looked into platonic eyes until now, eyes that saw him as Harry's father, Remus's friend, just a friend. Those same eyes had changed to him, transforming to the eyes of his angel with warming features that gave him the desire to live.

Hermione felt comfort in his arms again, like she really was only gone from him for a few hours. Nothing felt different. Though a little older, his eyes, his smile, his aura, his smell, his devilishly good looks were all still him. It felt like she never had to say good-bye, never had to see him flying off on his motorbike to be condemned, but always here waiting for her the entire time.

"I couldn't save James, I wanted to, but I couldn't! It would have-"

"Shhh, I know," he pacified quietly.

"I just couldn't, I need you to know that!"

"Hermione, love, please. Don't say anything." He pressed a finger to her quivering lip, "I know the rules of a Time Turner; I had plenty of time to do the research. There was nothing you were allowed to do." His brow crinkled at the center and he shook his head sympathetically, "I understand."

She reached for him again, hugging him close and resting her chin under his neck. He laid a hand on the back of her head, tenderly stroking her hair.

"The hardest part of all, was watching you grow up. I would look at you with such dangerous eyes, I'm surprised no one said anything," he said to her quietly, as if guarding a deep guilty secret. "Well, Remus did, naturally."

She smiled into his shirt, smelling his romantic cologne and letting it fill her senses. Her hand slid up the front of his jacket, her fingers taking notice of the ornate buttons. She'd never been this close to adult Sirius, before and it was enticingly euphoric.

"So much has happened. The world is so different, now," she whispered, leaving kisses against his neck. She felt so comfortable, so tranquil, laying her head against him. She felt his fingers trailing small circles against her back.

"I waited all these years for you and now that you're here," he hesitated, going out on a ledge, "I don't know if this is right for you."

"Don't you dare!" she cried, pulling herself off of him to grab the lapels of his jacket firmly. Her hands began to tremble immediately in their grasp.

"I'm not quite the same person I was, Hermione."

With a heated fire within her loins, she was not letting him get away. Her fingers held tighter to his jacket and she forced a kiss on him that rendered him powerless before pulling away to say, "You're the person I fell in love with! I got to know both of you, but the whole time I kept thinking of this you. The older you, the one that I was going to see, the one that belongs in my time, the one that watches over Harry, the one that sits silently in the shadows. You're still the same to me."

Sirius's lips parted, but he was speechless at first. He just pushed her hair out of her face, wondering what he'd done right to make her still want him. "I think you're absolutely mad. Beautiful, but mad."

"Maybe I am, but maybe I'm just as stubborn as someone else I know that wouldn't let up."

He couldn't help but smirk, fondly remembering the way he followed her up the street while still sitting on his motorcycle

"I need you to take that place in my life. You're the one I want." She looked upon him fondly, not fully believing that he was the same man just hours ago told her he loved her. "It was only a few hours ago that you drove off in that storm. My heart broke."

Sirius closed his eyes, sealing the moment to his memories. Feeling her close, hearing her voice and listening to every single word made him feel lighter than air. She was an answer to years' worth of prayers and requests - his patience had paid off. He wanted the day to come where he could kiss her soft red lips once more and slide his hands over her naked curves.

His silence was worrying. Though she still had his attention, he hadn't agreed to anything. His face looked content, his brow creases subsiding. Handsome chiseled features twitched slightly as he breathed normal, calming himself before opening his eyes to her anxious brown ones.

"You might not be in love with me, right now. But, I'm here if you still want me."

Sirius was crushed that he hadn't answered her until that moment. How cruel he was to leave her hanging without an answer, without a solid word. His hands smoothed around her neck where his fingers clutched her neck gently. He was moved beyond words and managed to sum it up in one sentence when he pressed his forehead against hers, believing them to be the only two people in the world.

“You were my reason for life, love.”

THE END

REASON FOR LIFE Ch. 30

2009-12-09T06:01:01Z

Title: Reason For Life
Ch. 30 "A Tale of Two Prisons"
Rated: NC17 (overall)
Sirius/Hermione

Ch. 30

Wands in others' hands moved quickly around him. Like small bolts of lightning, streams were cast overhead as Sirius was caught off guard while staring intensely on the spot Wormtail previous stood. Strong arms reached out for Sirius, restraining him the old fashioned way as he struggled and screamed, followed by his bellowing bark-like laugh.

"Sir, all that is left it looks...is a piece of his finger," said a young junior Minister.

"That's bullocks!" Sirius shouted, feeling the severe human strength holding him back from addressing the obvious.

"Well done, Fudge. Wrap that up, it's evidence," said a more distinguished Auror that came alongside of the future Minister of Magic. His eyes followed up the length of the crazed man that mimicked a rabid animal in hysterics.

Sirius laughed louder with an insane volume. His eyes were blazing, his heart racing, his skin was hot and perspiration settled above his brow. "He killed himself! He's gone and blown himself up!" He could not stop laughing enough to fight back, but there was no doubt he was being restrained.

"Sirius Black, you've been found guilty of murder for a dozen muggles, Peter Pettigrew and James and Lily Potter-"

"No fucking way! That's wrong!" Sirius bellowed, hiding his own panic with severe laughter masking as insanity. He started to pull every way to break free from the restraints that were now being applied to him. He yelled and called out, but no one heard what he was truly saying. His shouting and demands fell upon deaf ears.

"Take him to Azkaban - no trial! The proof is now being bagged up. It's all that remains of who once stood there," said the young Junior Minister as he shook his head, surveying the scorched markings on the street and nearby wall.

"Nooo-" in a flash, Sirius's voice was cut off abruptly. He was apparated away from the public place and the circling Aurors standing by.

Dragged by his arms down the dark dripping hallway, Aurors violently escorted Sirius to a cell just beyond three small ones occupied by either corpses or nearly dead prisoners. The hallway was narrow and cold, drafty breezes came in from the cracks of the aging building and crevices that had been chipped away over time were the only hope of any light should the skies ever open up to shine through.

The darkness was closing in and Sirius fought as hard as he could, but was overpowered by stronger arms and spells that prevented him from running away. He threw his head back, pushing his feet against the stone floor like a toddler afraid of the inevitable. He screamed and cursed that his undeserved sentence was wrong, but his pleas were not heard.

As they approached the empty cell, they unlocked the iron door and slid it open before him. The grind of metal and chains objected to their rusty disturbance, but the Aurors worked it open wide enough to push Sirius in where he fell to the floor with a violent thud.

His hands slapped down hard on the cold moist stone floor. Next to him lay a tattered striped uniform, surely only laundered once since the last prisoner had worn it. Their fate unknown. But, it was his last and feeble attempt to bolt out of the dirty cell with no windows that he was knocked backwards again by strong arms clearing the way for a photographer to join him in the cell carrying his camera and a narrow name card with numbers and symbols already engraved on it.

"I didn't kill them! Get Hermione! Tell Hermione that I'm innocent!" he yelled furiously, pulling away angrily from the people that held his shoulders down as he was forced to hold his new prisoner number up. "HERMIONE!"

"Shut it, Black! You're just like the rest of your family!" said one of the Aurors that held him down.

The flashbulb ahead of them went off and Sirius's guilty maniacal image was sealed.

Hermione watched her world reappearing at a slowing speed to the more modern age. Once at the right time, her body felt heavy, tired and absolutely exhausted. She reached out to the walls of the tiny stall that surrounded her, feeling slightly unbalanced. Her head leaned against the wooden walls, slowly coming to like she'd just ridden a very fast carousel. Carefully, she pushed herself back up to a more solid standing position and made her way out of the bathroom. Her legs felt like jelly and her feet felt heavy, like rocks had been tied to them, not finding the energy to move.

It took her nearly an hour to get home from the pub. A trip that usually took her a fair ten minutes had been mildly delayed due to her constant need for rest and quick rejuvenation. Not summoning enough energy to apparate to a hidden location by Grimmauld Place, she managed to get home by way of bus, taxi and a very slow stroll down the sidewalk leading up to the street.

Finally, house number eight came into view, followed by nine, ten, eleven and then thirteen. With a gesture of her wand that was safely tucked in her pocket, number twelve emerged from between the other two tall structures.

Hermione felt her heart beginning to beat faster than it ever had before. She took a deep breath for a few minutes before opening the door to the house she’d always visited under different circumstances and now after she passed over the threshold, everything was going to change. With a hard turn of the knob she pushed through with the mustered strength she was saving up. The door closed behind her, announcing her arrival back to the house. With quiet careful baby steps, she moved slowly toward the staircase, reaching out a hand to stable her in her weakness.

The house was still and quiet and not a sound was heard. “Sirius!” she called out with anxious anxiety. She didn’t know what kind of reception she’d receive. “Sirius!” she called again. Nothing in the house stirred and with the deafening sound, her adrenaline was quickly draining from her muscles. Her legs were beginning to feel weak and her ability to stand was becoming a challenge. As her head started to swim, her heart beats began to subside. She reached to her neck for the onyx necklace she wore and thought of him desperately, mentally calling his name. With only enough strength to muster a whisper, Hermione fell to her knees and then to the floor before the stairs with her mind drifting off to the sound of his voice.

*JUNE 1994*

For the first time in a very long time, Padfoot saw him.

Crookshanks had assisted Padfoot for a part of the journey, but now the rat formally known as his best friend, was being held and coddled in the hands of a boy standing next to his godson. The hair down his lean canine back stood on end; he bared his sharp canine teeth and started to salivate like he'd just seen red meat after a long time without food.

Without warning, Padfoot took off running and was airborne, knocking over the ginger and frightening the rat right out of his hands. The boy started to scurry off the ground; cries and shouts were heard. As Padfoot watched the boy take the rat into his hands again, he had no choice but to grab his leg and drag him where he was safe to transform and kill the rat on his own territory.

Ron wailed in pain, called for his friends, but they were late. He was already being dragged into the weeping willow, down the long passageway, into the shrieking shack, up the stairs and into the bedroom where it was layered with dust and broken boards.

Once Padfoot was alone with the ginger-haired boy, he transformed back into Sirius Black, a form he’d not been in for nearly nine months. The ginger yelled in fear as he coddled the rat tightly in his hands, but Sirius did not mean to frighten the boy at all. He was too driven to grab the rat from his hands, but the boy would have nothing to do with it. Harry and the young girl rushed to their friend’s side and that was when Sirius rounded on them, calm, crazed, but collected.

In an instant, Sirius had three wands in his hands and watched carefully at the way Ron held the rat, his main focus. Harry had gone at Sirius with anger and hatred, murder flashed in his eyes. Though he was a thirteen year old boy, Sirius still had the advantage while being a grown man, no matter how malnourished and weak he was. He felt Harry’s hands wrap around his thin wrists when they want to the floor. Long from the small baby Sirius used to bounce on his knee and toss into the air, he was now hollering and yelling at his friends, unsettling him more. It wasn't Harry's fault, he just didn't know the truth and that was why he was merely holding him down and not trying to inflict any pain. He couldn't do that to James's son.

From the corner of his eye, Sirius looked just in time to see a swift kick from a girl’s shoe make contact into his face and with that, was thrown back in pain and off of Harry. He fell with a heavy thud and after a few seconds, moved his weak limbs to prop himself up. Like a broken doll, Sirius lay slumped against the wall, his eye blackening and his nose bleeding from the kick to the face. Over him stood the young face of his best friend with his wand, now given to him by the young girl once it was kicked away, aimed directly at his chest.

“You killed my parents!”

Sirius rested his head against the wall, his eyes in sunken sockets looked up and he was catching his breath. After a few uncomfortable seconds, he managed, "Yes, I don’t deny that, Harry." He felt so worn, so beaten and continued, "But, you should know the whole story...”

Everything was happening so fast for Sirius as he lay against the wall. His hair was long and matted, his teeth yellowed and rotting, his cheeks sunken and his body thin and weak. Finally enlightened by seeing an ally, Remus had come in to help set the history straight and reunite their longtime friendship. Moments had passed, the tension had begun to melt away, and it was then that Sirius had started to pay attention to the people in the room with them.

Remus paced the room, after handing all three of the kids their wands back, leaving Sirius without one. Upon retelling the story, Remus said a name that stirred Sirius’s attention, forcing him to pull himself off the floor.

Hermione...

Sirius stood using the wall as leverage. He slid himself up against it, his eyes peering over the room to Ron still holding Wormtail, to his godson Harry and then finally on the young girl Remus had made several intelligent references to. She was the one screaming not too long ago, she was the one telling everyone Remus was a werewolf, she was the one that had kicked him in the face, but as he looked at her with wide open eyes, he felt his insides twist. He scanned over her very young face, her childish features and the unmistakable way she furrowed her brow when worried. Remus had said her name again, repeating it over and over, as if to alert Sirius any more than he already had.

For a split second the two men exchanged looks as Sirius glanced over to Hermione and then back at him again to see if he was right. With a subtle nod, he acknowledged him and confirmed his query. And then it hit him - she wasn’t supposed to be there all those years ago.

Sirius slowly pushed himself off the wall and made his way to the four poster bed where Ron was laying with his bleeding broken leg. Taking up very little space, he let his shoulders sink and hid his face into his hand feeling beaten and worn.

She wasn’t supposed to be there with him. She’s from this time. She’s Harry’s best friend. She knew me...she knew this me. She didn’t give up on me when I went into Azkaban...she had to leave. And all this time, I thought she had been killed. He glanced up at her as she stood watching Remus like a hawk and for a moment, their eyes met and he saw something in her for the very first time...fear. She looked upon him like the killer he was made out to be and because of that, she looked away. You have no idea, yet. You’re just so young...Hermione. I spent so many nights calling your name, dreaming of you and thinking of the last thing we said to each other. You knew everything that was going to happen...including this. How could you not do anything - because, you couldn’t. It wasn’t your time.

*SUMMER 1995*

Hermione arrived two weeks before Harry did to number twelve Grimmauld Place, Sirius’s present home prison. Having offered his childhood home for the Order headquarters, he had since been able to go through his father’s old clothing, eat healthier meals (thanks to Molly) and start the long road to recovery. He had a lot of time to reflect when the house was empty, but lately, since it was a place for Order members to meet up, he had been able to keep quite a bit of company. Remus had come into the house in between rendezvous with the werewolves, Dumbledore had done his fair share of check-ups and as of late, nearly the entire Weasley contingency had moved into the vacant rooms while assisting with a good cleanse.

Sirius never forgot the evening that Hermione arrived to the strange house. She’d had her trunk and cat sent to Grimmauld Place ahead of her, ready to travel with other Order members for her own safety. She stepped in through the front door with Mad-Eye Moody, her bag clutched securely in front of her, looking up and around wildly, trying desperately to take in her surroundings.

“Ginny is upstairs, Hermione. Second landing, first door on the right.” Molly Weasley came out from the kitchen door and offered a hug as she sent her on.

“Thanks, Mrs. Weasley,” Hermione said as she slipped in and started up the stairs.

For the entire exchange, Sirius stayed at the top landing. His room was only a few doors down from Ginny’s and he waited so that he could watch Hermione. He bit his lip in awe of how good a summer she’d had by the looks of her female form coming into her own. Now fifteen, Hermione was beginning to develop into a delicate woman that would only be warned about men his type.

When she reached the top, Sirius took a few steps out of the shadows so as not to startle her, when it was she that smiled first to greet him. “Mr. Black-”

Sirius cleared his throat, reminding her that he was not like the other adults and preferred not to be called so politely.

“Sorry, Sirius.” She couldn’t help but smile as she shied away when he stepped closer. “You’re looking really good, healthy. You’re starting to look like you don’t belong in Azkaban.”

“Well, that is the idea,” he said with warm slight charm.

“It’s good to see you living,” she said, lingering in the hallway longer than when she’d talk to any other adult in the house.

“I’m getting by,” he said low. He forced himself to tear his eyes away from her in order to go down the stairs without looking back. It was getting too painful.

*CHRISTMAS 1995*

As everyone gathered in the sitting room for an eggnog or brandy, Sirius lingered by the doorway looking in. He felt like, aside from Harry, he was looking into someone else’s family through a portrait. Almost all the Weaselys were in attendance, Tonks was sitting in the corner making Ginny laugh with her many noses, Mad Eye was speaking quietly with Kingsley and Arthur was leading a song behind the grand piano that was still covered in a thin layer of dust.

Harry looked up from where he sat as he played wizard’s chess with Ron and watched how his godfather looked so out of place. So forlorn and out of touch, it truly proved to him that they were more alike than they cared to admit and just like the Weasleys had for him, he was going to make sure Sirius knew he was part of a family.

“Sirius is just standing there, not joining,” Harry said to his two closest friends. Hermione looked up from the pillow she hugged, watching the game with severe intensity.

“He’s just afraid to join. He’s been away for so long, I can see how lonely he must feel.” Hermione glanced from Sirius, back to the game. Sirius’s behavior was not unusual after what he’d gone through.

“Your move, mate. He’s fine.” Ron was too into the game to take notice and changed his leaning position on his elbows.

Next to the piano, Ginny took the lead with Remus and the two of them began to waltz around the room. Ginny reminisced about the Yule Ball and how Neville had practically danced her to death with his charmed shoes of that night.

“Hermione, you should go over and dance with Sirius,” Harry suggested, looking from Sirius to his best friend, believing it to be a brilliant idea.

Hermione glanced first at Ron to check for any change and then to Sirius, who lingered at the door, looking quite content. “I’m sure he wouldn’t want to dance with me. Besides, it looks like Ginny already took your idea, anyway.”

This time, all three of them watched as Ginny approached Sirius and removed his brandy glass from his hand. With a more dominant approach, Ginny allowed Sirius to step in closer and dance with her properly as he displayed a much warmer acceptance. The sound of Sirius’s laughter filled the room and everyone couldn’t help but smile with the way she dragged him, more than he dragged her in circles within the sitting room and audience.

At the end of holidays, Sirius said good-bye to everyone while standing in the foyer. Like a short assembly line, each young person said good-bye with hand shakes and “good lucks”, but it was Hermione that he seemed to take the longest with, after Harry of course. She was the last one to go through, having to still pull on her jacket. Appearing like she could have used a little help, Sirius stepped in and assisted the young girl with her coat and then watched as she spun around to thank him.

“Thank you, Sirius. Thank you for letting us use your house, as well.”

“Well, it’s alright. Not the best memories for me, but that’s all changing now, I can see. No idea how long I’ll stay in it, though.” Sirius said, occasionally looking away so as not to get lost in her pretty eyes. It burned from within as he reminded himself that she was only fifteen years old and knew nothing.

“Please, for all our sakes, but especially Harry’s, stay inside. Don’t risk anything, it’s just too dangerous.” Hermione sounded so mature with what she spoke of. Sirius made certain to make a mental note about it.

“What’s life without a little risk, eh? Surely, being with James’s son has proved challenging?”

“At times. It also can be trying at the same time, but I don’t mention that,” she giggled, lifting her scarf and tying it around her neck.

“Just stay out of trouble. Both of you,” he added, folding his arms before him.

“I won’t promise anything,” she smiled and walked closer to him. “Thank you, Sirius.”

Without warning, without reason, well maybe with a harmless reason, she opened her arms to him and offered a hug. Their first hug together! He welcomed her in, pulling her close and feeling her hands circle around his neck. For those few seconds, he took in all he could - her smell, her touch, her warmth. They were all simple gentle reminders of what he was missing, or what was to come. She had no idea.

With a final wave, all the children were gone and just like that the house had filtered out and was empty. Left to his thoughts and with Kreacher, Sirius stood in the foyer again, staring at a closed door. Solitude had its perks, but not when there was a war out there and he couldn’t fight. He thought about Harry, he thought about Remus, he thought about Tonks and he frequently thought about Hermione.

When in Azkaban, his thoughts turned to her. He often wondered why she didn’t try and visit him while he was incarcerated; she of all people would know he was innocent. Or would she? Perhaps she had believed the same as Remus. He thought her absence could have been blamed on her death. After he’d left, maybe Voldemort had gotten to her, knowing full well that she was of value to him. But, all that changed when he saw her two years ago in the shrieking shack and with luck, she was with Harry. No luck, actually. Fate. Everything was becoming more and more clear.

Hermione had always been Harry’s best friend, so something must have happened in the future that made her go back in time, but what? He’s questioned her travels and her knowledge of what was going to happen to the Potters. Should she have gone back to save them? Of course she should have. She should have warmed him about everything!

“But, you know she couldn’t, Padfoot,” Remus said as he joined Sirius in the sitting room one late night.

“How do you know what I’m thinking?” Sirius asked as he watched his friend entering the room.

“Because, I’ve seen the way you look at her. Be careful friend, she might get the wrong idea too early.”

“Not now, Remus. She could have stopped it all - James could still be here!”

“But, that would have changed everything that's already happened. Believe me, I would want him here too, but it had already happened, friend. She couldn’t have gone back to fix all that had happened after all this time. She’d used her Time Turner for classes, but that was it. She risked a great deal to go back to you.”

“But, why?”

“We don’t know yet. It doesn’t happen for another six years, my friend.”

“Great. What the hell am I going to do for the next six years until then? I’m already living in paradise, aren’t I?” Sirius chuckled sarcastically. He rested his head against the back cushion, staring up to the ceiling and noticing cracks that needed to be repaired. “I’ll be nearly forty-two by the time she’s old enough to remember. If I could just freeze myself right now, maybe then it would be worth it.”

“Not sure, but don’t risk anything now. Don’t make any stupid decisions that might get you locked up again in the meantime, alright?”

“Yes, Remus,” he humored like an old married couple. “When did you first figure out that it was her?”

“It was at a staff meeting a couple of years ago. McGonagall had mentioned that she had loaned a Time Turner out to a student intending to use it for extra classes. It wasn’t until a few periods into it that I pieced together and believed it was the same, Hermione."

Sirius nodded while still staring off into space. He listened to the cracking of the fire that was slowly fading out for the night.

"I never told you this," Remus began again, "but, I knew when she was with us, that she didn’t belong there.”

Sirius glanced to his friend, darkly intrigued by this news, "How so?”

“One night, at James and Lily’s house, I watched her lean over to pick up Harry and her Time Turner slid out of her shirt. I saw it immediately. I also made several references to the book she was currently reading on time travel and it all fit.”

“WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME?” Sirius said with a raised voice and now sitting on the edge of his seat, as if wanting to know every detail about it. Had he known it all back then, might have saved him the heartache he felt for so long. In seconds, he started to develop a sort of displease with his best friend.

“I couldn’t. I shouldn’t even have known; there was too much to risk. And besides...”

“Yes? Besides, what?” Sirius encouraged, hanging on his every word.

“Besides, you were happy, Sirius. I had never seen you that happy with anyone, before. You deserved it and if not knowing helped the pain, then so be it.”

Sirius stared at his friend for a few seconds longer, absorbing his sincere words and letting them truly sink in. They were the truth, for he was happy. He was content. He felt that he’d found that person that completed him and gave him balance, only to learn that she didn’t belong there in the first place. Hermione had meant the world to him and for all those reasons alone...he fell in love with her.

Sirius slowly lay back into the chair, allowing it to comfort him. Thoughts of his past and the enjoyable moments he had shared nearly a lifetime ago were all that he really had those days. Memories of James, the way life was, the way he was, who he was and now what had happened were forming into the realty that surrounded him. With a slight nod he spoke in a quite voice, "Thank you.”

A few days passed after that conversation and Sirius was alone in the house again. The old grandfather clock in the sitting room ticked away for every second that he took a step.

His thick booted foot gracefully stepping along the high quality carpet was a memory of his solitude, because he was alone. The house settled around him as he slid his hands into the pockets of his thick corduroy jacket; his fingers passed over the chain of his watch.

He could see the tips of his wavy black hair in his peripheral vision as he bowed his head down, walking along the edge of the carpet before the stairs and by the front door. His loneliness was at an all time high. Even just hearing the sound of Kreacher, the house-elf, tinkering away somewhere would have lightened him just to know he wasn't completely alone, but the little rodent had been asleep for most of the afternoon.

Sirius slowly walked into the sitting room, following the sound of the tick-tock as if to believe that something remotely interesting or new would catch his attention. His boots taking him the same way he'd walked before, knowing their routine rather well. His eyes scanned the walls, looking at the portraits for the umpteenth time as they went about their business. The fire was settling, crackling away the rest of the remaining wood that sizzled.

He thought back about the "kids" and their rushed departure of the house. He remembered seeing Hermione ducking her head into the empty room that displayed his horrid family tree, announcing to Harry that it was time to leave. He'd half wanted to beg him to stay. For all of them to stay - Harry, Ron, George, Fred, Ginny and Hermione. To stay and leave him some life in the house, leaving him with having someone new to interact with, each with a different personality. But, they had to return to school. They had lives of their own.

He picked a thread off of his jacket, dusting away any residual lint with his fingertips when his eyes caught a short leather bound book lying comfortably on the coffee table before him. A nice clean black leather cover hid its secrets; Sirius not yet knowing the value it held. He leaned over and picked it up, opening it in his hand. Blank pages of parchment looked back at him, freshly clean and never written on. He fingered through the pages, checking to see if it had anything in it at all. From what he could see, it was just an empty leather bound book with plain pages.

He tilted his head in query, wondering where it came from. It wasn't his and it served no other purpose other than someone's potential notepad. Curious to one more possibility, he took his wand out of his pocket and held the tip of it to the center of the empty pages.

"I solemnly swear that I am up to no good," he said with a smirk. Surely, it wouldn't be that easy.

Just like the Marauder's Map that he helped create, the pages before him started to bleed through with ink. Scribble in a feminine hand started to show and he soon learned that it was more than just an empty book. He turned to the first page and as he read the first words, he smiled. A warm guilt settled in his chest.

He chuckled in his throat as his lips turned into a small smile, "So, predictable."

"This is the diary of Hermione Jean Granger, aged 13."

The thick bound book that rested in his hands was like a sacred chronology to Hermione, obviously left behind as she returned to school. Tempted as he was to thumb through her most treasured thoughts, he quickly closed the book with a loud thud, protecting her from what she may not wish to be known.

But, then again, what she didn't know couldn't hurt her and what he did know, might help him. After all, he was an unsuspecting adult with nothing else up his sleeve. Honest, Gov! Who was he kidding? He was Sirius Black!

Knowing he was alone, except for Kreacher, he looked around anyway, just in case Remus had returned from a rendezvous early. When the coast was clear he dashed to the couch, threw his feet on the table and settled in to read the ramblings of a teenage girl.

"Dear Diary,

Today is my thirteenth birthday and I'm now officially a teenager. Far from the days of a mere child, I finally set forth to begin my journey to be the girl, or woman, I choose. For example, just last week I finally got my -"

Sirius quickly thumbed through the pages, and cleared his throat, "Perhaps, I'll start a little older."

He was curious about secrets, but not those secrets. It just made the whole idea even creepier with him being...well, as old as he was and she only fifteen. He moved towards the middle of the book, close to where the blank pages began again to entries somewhat recent, like the beginning of winter holidays.

"Dear Diary,

I've watched him for quite awhile, now. Seeing him in August and now during the holidays has been such a transformation. Harry loves him and I know that if he could, he would gladly drop out of school and leave just to be with him. But, seeing such an amazing piece of legendary history residing in the same place I am is just a little overwhelming."

Wait, is she talking about him?

"I'd love to sit him down and ask him so many things about that night, about what happened when he was first in the Order or what should we expect in the coming years? Sirius Black-"

Guess so.

"Sirius Black is one of those people that you want to hug one minute, because of what he's gone through and then turn around and punch in the face, because of how snarky and irresponsible he can be. Granted, he would lay down in front of the Hogwarts Express for Harry, and that's commendable, but sometimes I think that he does truly see Harry as James."

He snorted in jest, "I do not."

"But, even just the same, I do wish I was able to reach out to him. But, I know that he sees me as nothing more than a child. If he only knew what I’ve learned, perhaps then he'd listen to me or at least speak to me like I was someone at his level. But, until I'm no longer a Hogwarts student, I can't bet on it too soon.

I can only think that in his mind and in his own private world, it's much like living in a glass house and watching the world pass him by. He's forced to watch the people he knows go on with their lives, be involved and it's as if he's been left behind. I think he really believes he's been forgotten in some way and sadly, I don't blame him. He needs someone to understand him and I wish, so dearly, that it was me."

"All right, love, where are you going with this?" he asked aloud, as if she was there reading every word to him. The quietness around encompassed him as the night outside crept along. Suddenly, having her thoughts in his hands lessened the loneliness, even if just for a few pages.

"I'm fifteen, but as Bill and Charlie told me, I'm not like girls my age. That's not surprising. Girls my age are too hung up on material things and for me that takes way too much time, in my opinion.

I would like to believe that as I get older, I'll reach out and try to find someone that I can relate to or someone I can have a strong conversation with. I want someone that has seen the world or is not afraid to experience it. I suppose that being an only child has that sort of repercussions at times, but then again, I wouldn't have traded my moments alone for anything in the world. I only wish that when the time comes, I'll meet someone that has stories and lessons to tell me. Perhaps, someone like, Sirius.

Someone like Sirius would be my ideal and I hate to admit that I know I've watched him at certain times a little inappropriately too long. Aside from being incredibly handsome for a man his age, I can see his sexuality resonating from his past."

"Resonate? Good word, love."

"I don't see Remus like that, so I know it's not a generalization. It's just Sirius. Where he's been, what he knows, what he does, where he stands and his integral part to the Harry Potter saga all equals up to someone worth knowing. Who knows, maybe when I get older, I might try to pursue something with him, but I doubt it. Someone like him won't stay single long. He truly has too much to offer and I'm just someone that probably won't stand up to his expectations.

In the meantime, I’ll do what I can just to see the way he lights up a room with the sound of his laugh or the way he tends to wink when he’s proud of something he says. Even a girl like me can have their dream guy.

For now, good night - Hermione"

Sirius closed the book slowly, like he'd just finished the last page of a well written saga. His eyes stared off into the space before him, taking a moment to remember the words he'd read and her voice speaking them to him as he sat there alone in the house. He could almost see her writing in the book, alone in the room she shared with Ginny, alone in her own thoughts.

His eyes looked down to the front of the bound book and he lightly traced his fingers over the Celtic design of the cover, believing that he could almost feel her energy on it. Thinking hard, he was tempted to read on and maybe he would, but not now. Not when his last thoughts of her were she leaving him to return back to Hogwarts and finish up her studies.

"So young," he whispered to himself. Momentary guilt passed over him as he counted the years they had between them. He closed his eyes hard, firming his lips in a grimace and sighing long and heavy. "Just, so young."

He took to heart what she'd said in her most intimate times. He was moved by her thoughts, but most of all, he was quietly elated that she already understood him.

*SIX MONTHS LATER*

It had been ages since Sirius had been out in his human form in front of people. Dressed sharp and ready to impress, he appeared with the other Aurors and Order members to rescue the children from the Department of Mysteries. Behind masks, eyes widened at the very sight of Sirius and his alliance with the Order members. Seeing him dancing and fighting with courage and bravery next to Kingsley Shacklebolt, the man leading the manhunt for Sirius Black at the Ministry, would have surprised quite a few officials should they have appeared.

Dumbledore had arrived to Level 9, but Bellatrix and Sirius continued to duel. Dodging each other’s streams from their wands, the two laughed and taunted each other like they did as children growing up. Remus watched on as Sirius was in his own element, wand blazing, fighting the battle he always wanted to. But, it was the final taunt, the final threat to Bellatrix that caught him off guard.

“Come on, you can do better than that!” Sirius called and in an instant, he was struck in the chest. The element of surprise still on his face as he staggered backwards and fell into the veil.

All the air escaped from Remus as he watched his best friend fall, practically in slow motion, to his death beyond reach. The last piece of trust he had, his last connection to the past was gone, and he was all alone. His eyes immediately fell on Harry who, for only seconds, was just contemplating where his godfather had gone. Remus rushed behind him, throwing his arms around the young James, before he went after Sirius into the dark empty void.

Harry struggled against him, fighting and begging, but the truth was hard to grasp. Had Remus not clung to Harry as tight as he could, Harry would be gone too.

“There’s nothing you can do, Harry!” Remus shouted, holding his arms firmly across Harry’s chest.

“Get him, save him! He’s only just gone through!” Harry pled.

“It’s too late, Harry-”

“We can still reach him-”

“There’s nothing you can do, Harry,” Remus struggled against him, “It’s too late, he’s gone.”

“He hasn’t gone! SIRIUS! SIRIUS!”

“He can’t come back, Harry,” said Remus, his voice breaking. “He can’t come back, because, he’s d-”

Harry struggled with all his might and after Remus slacked his grip, he went after Bellatrix screaming aloud she’d killed him.

Remus was powerless and did not struggle; he only fell where he stood. His face fell into his hands as he quietly sobbed for his fallen friend. “This shouldn’t have happened, Sirius. This isn’t the way it was supposed to go!”

Reason For Life Ch. 29

2009-11-18T20:12:12Z

REASON FOR LIFE Ch. 29

Ch. 29 - October 31, 1981

At the end of the hallway from the large oak front door, Hermione stared at it as if it were the enemy. Its intricate designs of Celtic art engraved in the wood looked back at her as if it were hiding all secrets, and beyond it - death.

She had fallen asleep on the couch for the last few hours, having awoken to the heavy winds stirring through the trees outside. The constant tappings and lack of lighting when she opened her eyes made her immediately jump up and reach for her chest to feel for the necklace she had learned to loathe. But, as her eyes adjusted to the darkness around her and her fingers felt the piece through the cotton she breathed a sigh of relief. She looked all around her, noticing that not a single candle was left on in the room, indicating that she had fallen asleep long before night had fallen.

"Sirius!" she called out into the void as she reached around for her wand. "Lumos!"

The tip of her wand illuminated so that she could stand up and walk around the room, lighting several lanterns and muggle electric lights that Sirius had. She called his name again, but there was no answer. Her heart was beginning to beat quickly and her mouth going slightly dry.

Once the kitchen was full of light, she noticed a letter on the counter scribbled in handsome handwriting:

Kitten,
Ran off with Remus until last call. Don't wait up!
S

As she set down the letter and glanced to the hallway, her mind was not relieved. If anything, she was winding herself up more and more, biting her lip and narrowing her brow for no apparent reason. But, there was a reason, it was October thirtieth.

Hermione had spent her day with Sirius, doing whatever he initiated. He wanted to take her to lunch, so she let him. He wanted to ride his bike against muggle traffic, so she held on tightly. He wanted to sleep in late that day and make love to her as they pried themselves from their pajamas, so she allowed it. Such is life.

She knew that the very next night was going to be the fateful night when all their lives were going to change. The foursome would become two, an orphan would be named, the Dark Lord would stagger and Hermione would go home to the present day. She'd watched Sirius more closely that day in order to study his routine on the last day of freedom, sealing it to memory for when she got back. He was normal, as was expected, and incredibly affectionate. Of course, that could be because she was ever so loving to him as well. Whenever she'd get the chance, she was touching him - his arm, his thigh, his chin, she'd be reaching for him.

A couple of times, she'd caught him staring at her for probably longer than what was deemed normal, and always with just something on the tip of his tongue he was going to say. But, when she'd flutter over and wrap her arms around him, he'd go mute. He'd smile and flick his beautiful black hair back over his shoulder, exuding confidence without any doubt.

However, late in their evening, Sirius was the one that initiated an uneasy conversation. He was coming down the stairs into the kitchen, where Hermione was just finishing up some homemade curry she was preparing. He plopped right down onto the stool at his bar, watching her cook.

"So, when are you going?"

Hermione looked up from the naan bread she was handling and met his very sad eyes beneath black curtains. "What?" She heard him fine; she just needed the extra time to prepare.

He folded his hands on the counter and looked down. He knew that it was already a sensitive subject. "I saw your knapsack by your side of the bed. I saw that it was all packed."

Hermione froze like a statue, her mouth already drying and all she could do was nod very slowly. Her eyes never left his. "I just wanted to keep my things together, Sirius."

"You're leaving soon. I hope you would give me the decency to tell me when you're going back," he said slightly put off. There was tension in his voice and he kept his eyes low.

Inside, Hermione felt like her heart was ice and the shorter the day got, made it nearly impossible not to tell him everything. "Soon."

"All you can tell me is soon? Am I just going to come home one day to a note from you saying you've gone? This isn't easy for me, Hermione."

"It's not easy for me either, Sirius. I wish I could make you understand, but...but..."

"But, what?" he asked, this time finally looking up at her. His dark hair was behind his shoulders, his eyes gorgeous grey and his mouth slightly open from raising his voice. "But what, love? I don't see why you just can't throw everything out the window and stay here. Fuck your studies and come back to England."

Hermione dropped the plate she was holding, making a loud crack in kitchen. She quickly went around the counter to him and reached her hands out to cup his face. She kissed him immediately with blazing passion, but in the end she still pulled away.

"What if I made you a promise?"

He was taken back, aroused by her sudden need for him, "What promise?"

"I want to make a promise to you now, that no matter where I am, I will always be there for you."

Sirius's shoulders slumped, wishing she wouldn't say anything so cliché'. His face turned away from hers, finding it hurtful to even look at her.

She knew she was losing his interest and pressed on, "Wherever I go, wherever I am, if I leave and you find me again...I'll be there for you." She forced Sirius to look into her eyes and feel what she was saying. "I'll be there...if you want me!"

She felt like it was her only way to engrave it into his memory that she would be there for him in the future. No matter what he thought of her, no matter what had transpired after all those years, from the day she returned, she would be there for him if he wanted her. Telling him what she could now, was her only hope of making him understand in the long future ahead.

That was several hours ago and she was still standing in the hallway, listening to the scratching and stumbling at the door, waiting for the doorknob to turn. She had her wand clenched at her side, in the slight event that it wasn't who she expected. But, it was the barking laughter from the other side that confirmed it was Sirius.

The two men fell through the door, one holding the other up with the balance of a new born calf. Sirius was singing again, this time Remus was his co-conspirator, with a foul duet. Remus nearly went tumbling down as his own footing seemed to have got lost coming in through the door, so much he was finding sanctuary against the hallway wall with his head tilted back and his eyes closed.

Sirius managed to shut the door behind him, taking his wand out and locking it magically. He seemed to remember his priorities at his weakest and drunkest moments. He spun around and patted Remus on the shoulder, pulling him off the wall and encouraging him to join him in the kitchen. He hadn't noticed Hermione standing there yet, watching the two men like an unhappy parent; her arms were crossed in front of her.

"Hermione, my precious angel, you're up!" Sirius slurred, throwing an arm around her neck and pulling her alongside of him. She reached out to stable him.

"Yes, I didn't know you had left," she managed to say whilst trying to avoid being smothered by his arm. She slinked out of his drunken grip and turned to check on Remus who had been left in the hallway, but he was already staggering into the kitchen himself, using the counter to hold himself up.

"Hello, Herminny-e," Remus chuckled, amused by her name and the syllables. "I thought you'd be gone!"

Hermione's eyes rose and she quickly glanced back to Sirius who was bent over with his head in the fridge, trying to find either a snack, butterbeer or both.

"Remus, are you staying here tonight?" she said, putting an arm around him as if to hold him back from letting anything else slip. She was worried he might say something while he was drunk. So, to protect herself from any accidents, she slid her wand out of her pocket and pointed it behind Remus's back and out of Sirius's sight.

Her werewolf friend practically collapsed as Hermione put a sleeping spell over him that was just enough to leave him on the brink of a long heavy sleep. He managed to catch himself on the counter before him and with two hands pushed his head back up.

"I am! In fact, I'm not going to bother to go upstairs...the couch is fine," he mumbled and like a zombie he carried himself with dragging limbs to the same couch Hermione had just taken a nap on.

Sirius turned around from looking into the refrigerator with a chicken leg in one hand and an unopened butterbeer in the other. He saw his friend face first on the couch and he dropped his snack, but saved his butterbeer with an overdramatic sigh.

"You bastard! You said you were going to keep on with me! Traitor!" he howled to his corpse-like friend from behind the kitchen counter.

Hermione licked her lips and looked away to hide her smirk. She came up behind Sirius and rested a hand on his back as she looked at Remus with him, laying peacefully on the couch ignorant to the enchantment. "I think he's out for the night, Sirius."

"Oh! We were going to drink until the sun came up, that git!" he explained as he opened the butterbeer, but neglected the chicken leg. Hermione was quick to take the bottle out of his hand before he could take a sip, "Oi! I'll get one for you!"

"I think you've had enough," she said, taking it away like a pacifier from a baby.

"No, I haven't yet. I was working on getting enough!" he said slurring. He depended on the counter to ground him the more he tried to speak.

Hermione was able to convince Sirius otherwise and led him up the stairs. With very little effort of his own, he was stripped of his jeans and shirt and fell like a lifeless heap onto the soft comforter of sheets and pillows. He lay loose like a doll over the covers, turning here and there to encompass himself in their comforts that he had gone without watching Hermione undress and get ready for bed herself. Within minutes, Sirius was fast asleep and creating chaos in a dream state.

Hermione lay in bed, not tossing and turning, for she didn’t wish to disturb him. She watched how peaceful he lay, so oblivious about what was shortly going to be transpiring. His entire world was going to come crashing down. His best friend and brother would be dead, Remus would believe it was him, Peter was going to be outed for his betrayal and Sirius was going to be screaming wildly as they restrained him to take his Azkaban photograph.

Her heart felt a strong painful pang, like someone was piercing it immediately with the prick of a pin and she winced in agony. The more she thought about how much damage she’d done to him on her own, he obviously caring strongly for her and believing that she’d left him...who would want to live with that kind of tortured heart?

Hermione’s sadness was beginning to boil into anger. Frustration over her failed mission and how things were about to unfold and how she could do nothing about it. Damn her for allowing herself to fall into his trap. Damn her for her lack of willpower to restrain herself. She was just adding to his wronged life, adding to the lies he would have to endure for the next thirteen years.

She should never have used the Time Turner. She should never have even attempted to change him and allowed things to follow through the way they were always intended. She bit her lip hard, pulling herself back from crying out loudly. She was trying not to wake him. Trying not to make him open his eyes and see her there, a quiet sobbing mess.

She could fix it. She could do it. She could put things back to the way they were, before she came. He never had to know her.

Hermione quickly reached over and grabbed her wand from the nightstand. Her fingers were wound tightly around the engraved wood, pointing the tip of it to Sirius’s temple. Like holding a gun and about to fire, she held her breath, battling over her own decision to change things back to the way they were...in his mind.

She knew the spell. Sure, it might adjust quite a few things in his life, mildly change his personality and she would be nothing but deja vu to him. He wouldn’t remember how far they’d gotten; he wouldn’t remember how he drove her insane with passion and would never know how much she deeply cared for him.

Her wrist was beginning to tremble, her fingers getting weak. The tip of her wand hung dangerously close to his skin.

Do it! Just do it and get it over with. It’s for the best.

She needed to risk it. She had to do it. Their relationship was all wrong and she never should have existed before now. Things would be too different when she got home, she’d done enough damage.

His hand started to move to scratch his chest. So innocent. So happy...

Like holding a pistol to someone's head and quickly seeing yourself from an outside eye, she pulled her wand away from him. Her breath was ragged, her heart thumping quickly with the adrenaline rush. She couldn't do it.

With a slight stir, Sirius rolled over to his side and snaked an arm around her waist, pushing himself close to her without realizing that she still clutched her wand in her hand over the edge of the bed.

The next morning, Sirius woke up in an empty bed. The past few days had been bliss for him. He'd been able to roll over and reach for his witch that was usually curled up to the edge of the bed; he seemed to have a habit of taking up most of the space as he slept. He glanced around the room not seeing any of her clothes lying on the chair like they were the previous night.

The room was quiet, the shower was not running. His bedroom appeared like a bachelor's, like it had all those years before. Sirius flung the sheets off of him and immediately ran to the bedroom door, throwing it open with haste to get out. He took the stairs two at a time and as he rounded the corner, his heart was relieved.

Hermione was standing over a stove, flipping eggs in a sizzling pan before her. Behind her, the toaster sprung and the jam knife was enchanted to be ready for the buttering. Juice was being poured for two glasses at the table by two place settings and with an added flick of her wand without looking, the toast traveled to two spare plates.

"Well, good morning," Sirius said in a hoity voice. He played off worry rather well, letting his guard down and walking her way to kiss her good morning as if he'd known her to be downstairs all along.

"Same to you," she replied with a kiss, startled a second as her bottom was thoroughly pinched. "Sit, your breakfast is nearly done."

"What's the occasion? Eggs, toast, juice, what, no champagne?" he said, sitting down at the table and unrolling the Daily Prophet that was waiting for him with flashing front pictures.

"Just...because." She hid the sadness in her voice, trying not to think about what was happening that night.

"Damn, they got two more from the Order. My god, when is it-" Sirius said shaking his head. He was interrupted by Hermione sliding a spatchula under him to his plate to leave eggs for him.

Her demeanor was forced, trying to pretend that all was well and cheery and nothing was to be of a concern for the day of all days. She sat down, oblivious to the names he said and settled in to eat her breakfast with him.

There was a loud crack outside, causing both of them to jump and glance out the window. Thick rolling clouds were coming in like a fire was setting ablaze in the distance. Hermione looked momentarily alarmed, but Sirius just shook his head and went back to reading the paper.

"Bit early for a thunderstorm, isn't it?" Hermione said matter-of-factly.

"That's not rain, love. It's him." Sirius continued to read the paper meticulously, wanting to not miss any detail held in the paper before him.

"So, what gossip does Rita Skeeter have these days?"

"No gossip, love. She's too afraid to publish anything that might make anyone mad. Unless she's got someone on her side, she's not going to print any juicy news. Might stay with the Quibbler for that one. Load of bullocks, that publication." Sirius laid the paper down by his plate to read and eat at the same time. He took a bite of his eggs and leaned over to scan the extra names on the "killed" list.

"Maybe not. I've found some things in that paper that's rather useful."

"Have you met the editors of that paper? The bird that runs it is a real loon, not to mention her strange husband. They've had a kid, so I don't reckon that they'll turn out sane."

"Sirius, be nice."

"Just stating the facts, love. Damn, that's four!" he said, distracted by another name on the list.

"So," Hermione cleared her throat, "what are the plans for today?"

"Well, since it's Mischief Night, I'm partial to staying in. If I can't go out with James and wreak havoc, what's the good in going? Besides, on night of all nights, I imagine it'll just be an excuse for the Death Eaters to stir up more trouble. I am, however, going to check on Wormtail Wednesday. Just wanting to make sure he is where he is. Why? Do you have plans for us? Something to do with picking out which drawer will be yours or writing to your parents about being whisked away by a dashing handsome young wizard that loves the way you dig your fingernails into his back?"

Hermione almost choked and clutched her throat, trying to stifle a giggle at the same time. He had thoroughly made her blush. The idea of writing her parents, in her own time, regarding anything of that nature was way too much.

The day ticked on with Hermione glancing at a clock every fifteen minutes. The sunlight outside was beginning to lower; the wind seemed to never calm, proving to be a true fall day. Clouds rolled in and never ceased to wisp by to threaten birds of flight. Weight and stress started to push down on Hermione's shoulders as she'd glance over at Sirius. Begging for a lazy day, she only got part of one as Sirius insisted they leave and have a bite at a muggle pub down the street. Believing it was safe enough, she just didn't want to go far and insisted on showing him countless public displays of affection in order to get him home. Being out in the open was not ideal for them, and for however long she could keep him out of harms way, the better.

Finally, as the two of them were drifting off together while sitting under a blanket in the corner of the couch, Hermione's eyes flew open to a clock, she heard a loud crack of thunder and lightning dancing together and she knew...

For a moment, she thought she saw the clock stop ticking and the wind outside momentarily die down, but it was only her imagination. Late into the night, hardly a soul outside, life had just changed. October 31st, 1981 had happened. Like all the air had escaped her lungs, she felt a sudden loss knowing that two very important people had taken their last breath, died straight backed and proud and a red-headed woman was given a chance to save two lives...but, only saving one. Her visual imagination took the lead and pictured Voldemort weak and sliding away into hiding, vulnerable to anyone that knew how to completely destroy him at that moment.

Her breath hastened and her fingers tensed over Sirius's chest. "You alright, love? You're shaking," Sirius said low, almost in a whisper. He had dozed off for a few minutes, but her unsteady resting hand was enough to check on her.

"Nothing," she whispered back, staring off into space across the warm room. "Just...thinking."

"Well, don't think too hard. You've got me here and whatever it is, I'll protect you," he said, leaving a kiss against her temple. His shadowed chin brushed over her cool skin. "But for now, I think it's time for us to get upstairs, because you're leaving a dent in my shoulder." He had nudged her fully awake and pulled her with him from the couch.

She moved slow and without any energy. It was like she were carrying a heavy blanket of depression that just couldn't lift from her shoulders and even with the forced smile from the way Sirius tickled her just at her side, it was hard to shake off. In a matter of hours, she would be gone and away from him and he would later discover everything could have been prevented.

Tucked away in their bed, Hermione found a sleeping spell she performed on herself helpful, but it was Sirius lying awake and staring at the shadows on the ceiling. Something plagued him and it wasn't exactly clear what. He felt curious about something and very carefully got out of bed. Just as he took the first step on the carpet, a loud crack of thunder bellowed into the sky outside the large window. So loud it made Hermione stir in the bed he left behind. Sirius continued on and went to the fireplace across the room. He knelt down before it and took a handful of Floo powder in his hand, taking a few seconds to think upon what he was doing.

Checking up on his best mate, Peter.

His hand threw down the powder fast, erupting a fierce bout of blue flames before him. Sirius said Wormtail's location and stuck his head through the fire. For three minutes, he said Peter's name over and over again, but to no avail. The place looked empty and dark with no sign of life. The dinner table looked tidy and unused, the candles weren't smoking from being put out, and not even the stir of a small rat tapped across the wooden floor. The house appeared empty.

Sirius stood up and quickly grabbed his jeans that lay over a nearby chair and a beige long sleeve button-up shirt that was draped over the back. He moved swiftly throughout the room, pulling his jeans up over his hips and zipping them up with haste. In the bed, Hermione reached out absently searching for the person that kept her safe and warm through her heavy slumber. Her eyes flickered and then opened to blink a few times to see Sirius just putting his arms through his designer shirt.

She sat up immediately, "Sirius, where are you going?" Her hair was messy and wild around her head, appearing like a goddess rousing.

Once his arms were both through the sleeves, his shirt lay open and unbuttoned as he looked over at her wrapped up in his bed sheets and comforter. His rippled chest and stomach appeared taut and firm in the still blazing blue flames of the fireplace. His top button on his jeans was still not fastened.

Sirius caught her eye and rushed over to her, placing both hands over her cheeks and kissing her hard. When he pulled away, he looked at her with incredible intensity, "You stay here! I'll be back."

"Sirius, please, where are you going?" she asked again, her breath sparse.

He shook his head, his loose locks moving swiftly over his shoulders, "I'm going to check on Wormtail. He's not responding from his hiding place and-"

"Sirius-" she reached out for him, but froze. This was how it happened. This is the way it was supposed to be.

"What love? You can't come with me. I need you to stay here, so I know you'll be safe."

Like awakening from a dream, she shook herself from her state and nodded rather feeble.

"Good." He kissed her forehead and pulled away, buttoning his shirt and running his hands through his hair to double as a brush. He sat on the edge of the bed to pull on his boots and Hermione draped herself over him, hugging his neck from behind, leaving small kisses along his ear. She closed her eyes tight, holding back the tears that were on the brink. She wanted, for one last time, to feel the tips of his hair tickle her cheeks and to rub her cheek along his scratchy beard, fearful that it might not be the same. Fearful that it might never happen again.

"I'll be back soon, love. I love all your affection, believe me, but you're making it incredibly hard to leave you now," he said as he turned around to kiss her.

"Sorry, I know you have to go. I'll just miss you," she practically whispered. She was finding it harder and harder to meet his eyes, knowing that any moment she would erupt into a fit of tears with no explanation.

He kissed her again, tearing himself away with severe difficulty and rushed down the stairs, stomping all the way down. Hermione was close behind in his wake in pajama pants and long sleeved t-shirt.

Sirius grabbed his keys from the counter, double checked the placement of his wand and spun around where he stood, meeting Hermione face first. "Do NOT leave this house!” He reached for her with serious possession and kissed her hard, rendering her nearly motionless. He needed to balance the chaos out in his mind, for he had a truly bad feeling about what was happening while he was at home. At the same time, he knew something was going on in Hermione, because he sensed she felt something off as well.

“I mean it. You stay here, I’ll be back as soon as I can! Just promise me that you’ll wait for me,” he said pulling away and looking into her eyes.

Hermione couldn’t say anything. She wanted to say so much at that moment, but didn’t know how to form the words. All she could do was look into his grey orbs and slowly nod, her lips turning into a frown.

Sirius kissed her forehead and turned to open the door, his keys ringing in his hand. He was rushing as quickly as he could, he needed to get to Peter. He threw open the door and rushed down the stairs to where his motorbike was parked outside.

Hermione hurried to the open door behind him. The air outside had a rotten smell to it. The skies were cloudy, making her skin clammy. The muggle neighbors were oblivious to the wizarding world, should they peek out their windows from hearing voices.

“Sirius!” Hermione called out, running down the steps and over the wet grass to him. She reached him just as he was about to throw his leg over the motorcycle to start the engine.

“Hermione, please just stay inside.” He knew she was leaving. He could tell.

“Sirius-” she cut herself off with one more kiss on his young lips. Tears were beginning to cascade down her cheeks like an overflowing waterfall; she didn't want to let him go.

The strong dulling pang returned to her heart and she looked up on him for the last time as the young Sirius Black. Soon all would be gone: that lust for life, that thrilling excitement with every word he spoke, to become a shadow of what he once was all over what he was going to discover. She put a hand on his cheek, curling her fingers to scratch against his stubble afraid to speak.

“Go back inside, love. I’ll be right back, I promise. Just wait for me.”

“Sirius, I love you!” she blurted out regrettably. She needed to get it off her chest, at any expense.

As if she had just commented on the weather he smiled and shook his head, “I know.”

After one more kiss, he threw his leg over his motorcycle and revved up the engine. He footed around his front garden as Hermione slowly took a few steps away so he could turn around and leave, paying no attention to the row of tulips growing over the path.

With a stronger rev of the engine, he looked back at her for a few extra minutes to take in the picture she was leaving him. Her hair blew around her shoulders, she stood in the wet grass pulling at her night shirt and she was more beautiful with wet brown eyes than he'd ever seen. Without going into detail he gave her a wink and simply said, “Me too!”

Hermione’s face winced in pain again, the cockles of her heart breaking away like a brick wall collapsing.

Sirius kicked off with this right foot and sped off down the street on hot pursuit of a gut feeling he hated to admit.

She heard the engine of his motorcycle fading out and nature's whirring sounds of a storm about to unleash beginning to surround her. Constant tears streamed down her face, her heart pounded and her stomach retching with nausea. Her ears burned with his last words to her, confirming the damage in her mind.

They loved each other.

A rolling thunder was booming in the distance, indicating that the heavier clouds were rolling in. The stillness in the air was beginning to make her stomach churn even more and she turned on her heel to dash inside, eager to leave as soon as she could. The door slammed shut behind her and she hurried up the stairs, as if time was totally against her. She had to leave, she had to get out. The night was a stranger to her and she was in the wrong world.

Her feet took the stairs two at a time, moving faster than an American football player in training through the tires. She was panting when she reached the top. She made a beeline for Sirius's bedroom where her things were. Clothes were scattered about the room both in the heat of passion and in normal disarray. All around her, she saw him. She could only imagine what was going to happen to all of his things, all of his clothes, all of the personal possessions that sat amongst the room untouched. A small part of her wished she could take things with her, but it was completely unethical.

She looked about the room, double checking for anything that might have been hers. With the rest of her clothes balled in her hands, she quickly stuffed them into her bottomless bag. Her heart rate tripled in speed, her ears buzzing. She felt like the walls were closing in on her, like she was trapped in steel prison herself.

Rushing as quickly as she could, she took one more glance around the room to double check if she was forgetting anything. Then she saw it, laying on his nightstand where he must have taken it off as if he knew, was his onyx necklace. A symbol of his past, his youth, his rebellion and there for the taking. Without a second thought of the magical repercussions of taking a piece of the past, she quickly went to it and stuffed it in her pocket. She wanted something from him. She looked again at the way the room was, the way it smelled and finally the bed where they had spent the last nights together bonded as one. Her eyes were beginning to water again.

Taking a deep breath, she left the bedroom feeling like all the air was beginning to get sucked out, but realizing it was just overwhelming emotions taking over. She sped down the stairs, her hand gliding down the banister much like his did when hurried; she could almost feel his energy. She made it to the door without looking back and slammed it tight behind her, for no reason.

She never looked back as she hurried to the sidewalk and pulled her hoodie closed tightly. Not wanting to relive anything that she’d just endured, she was eager to get home. Eager to see the damage she’d created and most importantly, eager to see Sirius - the older Sirius.

Her feet scraped hard against the damp cement sidewalk, quickly taking her to the one place that would be safe to leave this time. Down the forgotten alley, around the corner from the dilapidated phone box, to the last street of Oxford.

She ducked into the Leaky Cauldron, keeping her head low and not trying to see any faces. The pub was half empty, a few single drinkers lurking in the corners, soon to discover that the Dark Lord had been defeated if just for a little while and the story of Harry Potter would spread.

She made her way to the women’s loo, hoping no one was inside of it. As luck would have it, she was alone when she walked into the three stall bathroom. Reeking of mildew and the sound of leaking pipes overhead, she didn’t take the time to hide herself before she was already reaching under her shirt to take out the Time Turner. But before she turned it, she reached deep into her pocket and took out Sirius's necklace. Sniffing quietly to herself, the idea of Lily and James already dead and Sirius discovering that all by himself without her, the girl he was depending on and whom he had fallen in love with, made her very very sad. She tied the black chording around her neck and let it fall just against her neck like a choker. Then she ducked into one of the stalls, closed her eyes tight and turned it the correct amount of times to leave this day, this month and this year.

With a slow fade out, like at the end of a movie, Hermione Granger was gone from October 31, 1981.

REASON FOR LIFE Ch. 28 "The Real Secret Keeper"

2009-10-23T02:22:44Z

A note from Serade Black: I have been busy with RL, but at the same time I've been going over a few scenes from this chapter. I didn't like the first scene, so I changed it after speaking to a few people. I couldn't give that much guilt. However, I'm trying to focus on completing this and getting onto the next story, but I will not rush it to do so. I take quite a bit to update, I apologize, but that's just the way I write. I've made it a rule for myself not to read anything incomplete for that very reason, but some of you are gluttons for punishment, I guess ;)

Ch. 28 - The Real Secret Keeper

The winds outside the windows of the old house tore through the trees. Their elongated branches tapped against the glass like an uninvited visitor. Shadows were cast upon the opposite wall as the trees danced with the moonlight.

Hermione lay awake, her eyes transfixed on the flickering shadows and the corresponding tree branches just outside. Her eyes reflected the movement of the clouds passing by as she rekindled the memories of an unforgettable time. The darkened memories of living in fear of dangerous anticipations were all too close to the history she was enduring.

Beyond the tapping, she listened to the gentle serene sound of Sirius breathing. He lay next to her on his back, one hand resting on his chest and the other between them; his handsome face was turned away. They had made love over an hour ago, Sirius trying to take away her fear, but she was not as lucky to drift off to a semi peaceful sleep.

Instead, she watched the windy night carry the clouds quickly, while mulling over the damage she had caused. She kept telling herself not to dwell on it, but she was who she was. Hermione hated not having an answer.

The next evening, they arrived at Godric's Hollow to the Potters’ house. Hermione had wanted to spend the day alone with Sirius, finding any reason not to run into McGonagall or Dumbledore at this time. She had already overstayed her welcome and her days were limited with Sirius. Finding any reason to kiss him while pinned up against a hallway wall, even if they were only in his house, was a valid reason to wait it out.

As they approached the house from the sidewalk, Hermione stopped before the white fence that opened into their front garden. Her eyes traveled the walk up the pathway, through the door and mentally up to the second floor where in less than a week both occupants would be dead and a baby frightened and scarred.

"Come on, love," Sirius said, opening the gate and tugging Hermione's hand.

"Sorry," she said, shaking her head to feign bewilderment. "Just a little dizzy from the transport."

They walked to the front door of the house, trying not to picture it as an aftermath of demolition. The welcoming front door had ornate designs carved into the wood with a large old fashioned metal handle. With ease, Sirius knocked once and walked inside, taking Hermione behind him.

"Oi! Where is everyone?" he shouted from the foyer. The house was quiet, still, displaying no present occupants.

"Upstairs in Harry's room!" they heard from above.

Sirius turned and helped Hermione remove her coat, then removed his, and hung them on the coat rack nearby. He walked into the kitchen to the refrigerator and helped himself to a butter beer. He offered Hermione one, but she declined as her interest appeared to be drifting.

For the very reason they had come, she was nervous to be there. It was too close to Halloween, too close to the truth and she was very close to just telling them everything that was about to happen. But, she couldn't, she knew this well.

Her lack of enthusiasm to be at his best friend's house disappointed Sirius and he was otherwise concerned for how funny she was acting. He blamed it on the circumstance for which they had come and tried to otherwise calm her. "You all right, love?" he said privately.

"I'm fine, really," she was quick to reply, laying a hand on his chest to ground herself as he stepped into her personal space. He was always comforting, but not when she knew what was looming over them.

"You look worried. What's the matter?" he asked again taking her hand from his chest and kissing her palm. He was standing against her now; he loved making them one together.

"Sirius," she started, taking her second hand and holding it against his cheek, "I'm sorry. I'm just concerned for them and I just don't like being here under these circumstances."

"I know love, I know. Me either. But, we're here for a good reason and after tonight it will be safe. I'm going to be their Secret Keeper and things will change but-"

"The Secret Keeper? But, I thought..." she hesitated, thinking back.

"Thought what, love? Don't think it should be me? Think it should be...wait!" He looked directly at her as if she'd just turned on a light in his head. "That's right! They would suspect me of being their Secret Keeper; they'd never suspect...Peter! Remus, I don't know, I have my suspicions, but that's another - of course Peter! Darling, that's a brilliant idea!"

In a second he was pulling away to run out of the kitchen with the thrill of her brilliant idea coming to light. But, as he left her standing alone in the kitchen with her thoughts, he mind swirling in a blur, it dawned on her: she was the reason the Potter's were killed! It was her questioning of Sirius being the Secret Keeper that initiated a chain of thought that concluded the obvious dilemma and inevitable ending. Had she not come, Sirius could have been the original Secret Keeper.

It had happened so fast that she barely had a second to reach out for him and pull him back to...to what? Tell him she was wrong? Tell him that it should be him after all and disregard her slip, but then that would change the course of history! That would have changed the outcome of everything and that...that...would be catastrophic!

Her heart was beating so fast she could barely catch her breath. She heard the voices carrying down the stairs from the second floor, Sirius's voice most pronounced, agreeing with the great suggestion. She heard them talking about it, heard them agreeing and then lastly, she heard Sirius calling for her to come up to see them.

She should have gone home right then, no second thoughts. She should have taken out her Time Turner, left her things behind and just go home to Grimmauld Place and deal with whatever else she my have royally fucked up.

But, she didn't.

She answered his call and took a deep breath to begin the dozen steps to the second floor to see him, to see James and Lily, and the rest of the crowd that had come that night to finish applying the guarding spells over the house.

The journey to the second floor had never felt so long. The wood of the railing felt smooth under her hand, but the portraits on the walls seemed to be glaring at her, as if they knew she didn't belong. She kept her eyes straight ahead with her dignity tucked safely under her shirt. She followed the sound of otherwise happy voices that were probably cooing over the baby and just as she'd reached the threshold of the baby room, she saw she was right.

Like a proper family, both Potters were smiling gleefully with Sirius nearby and not too far from them were Remus and Peter. All of them seemed to have the opposite of Hermione's expression and otherwise gut feeling.

"Grand idea, Hermione," James said, coming in to kiss her cheek for a greeting. "They'd come right for that dodgy bugger, without a doubt."

"I just thought it should be me, but then, they would too," Sirius chuckled with an overall pleasing smug look on his face.

"I had a similar idea," Remus started, but hesitated when Sirius gave him an uncomforting glance. "But, had a feeling no one would go for it."

She could only smile. Half smile, at the least, because inside she was crying hysterically that she was the reason that the small child in Lily's arms didn't have his parents. The guilt was almost too much to handle, but she had to make-do. She had to pretend that it was a good idea, because in the end, Harry wouldn't have been the person he was today. Tragic as it was, Harry was the man he was, because of the journey he was destined to travel.

Of course, watching the way Sirius looked her over as if she was just too good to be true was another matter. She felt secure and safe within this group, well except for Peter, and it was going to be her mission when she returned to her time to try and pull out the person that Sirius once was - at any cost. Would he hate her in the future? Would he remember this in the future? Was he secretly waiting for her to get back so that he could lash out on her for the damage she'd caused? She didn't know.

An hour later, she had moved into the guest room with Remus and Sirius, who were adding Black Out spells, should anyone try to see the house from outside the windows. This had to be applied to every room in the house to make sure not an inch was overlooked. Much like taking room by room to paint it, the group had paired off into other rooms to accomplish more. Hermione found herself standing beside the men, working away and adding spells that would do no good in the end.

"I'm going for another beer. You two want one?" Sirius asked, stepping away and tucking his wand back into the rear pocket of his jeans. His hair was frazzled and messy and he summoned a hair tie to pull it back off his shoulders.

"Yes, thanks Padfoot," Remus answered with his back to him as he diligently finished up with a strong flick of his wrist.

"I'm fine," Hermione answered weakly. She tried to muster up stronger enthusiasm for the sake of face, but was unsuccessful.

"Yes, that you are, love," he added with a cheesy flair. He quickly stole a kiss before leaving her alone in the room with Remus.

They stood a few feet apart as their wrists were raised and gently flicks like strokes of a paintbrush swished before the wall. The lights were bright and cheery, but the outside windy night told another eerie story. A few moments passed before either one initiated any conversation, but it was Remus who started first. He looked behind him towards the door and then back at her, watching her whisper an incantation through tight lips.

"I just wanted to say good-bye, in case we don't get the chance," Remus said practically in a whisper.

Hermione glanced over with an inquisitive look, "Sorry?"

"I saw it Hermione-"

"Saw what-"

"I saw it. I know what it is and I know you don't belong here, so I just wanted to say-"

"I don't know what you're talking-" she tried to cut him off, but to no avail.

"Your Time Turner, Hermione," he finally said, dropping his voice. They'd spoken over each other for the last few sentences, but he managed to say it. "I saw it that night you picked up the baby. I won't say anything and I know you can't either, but..."

"Remus, please," she urged, holding her hands up as if to stop him. Her mind was beginning to spin.

"I just wanted to say good-bye. I imagine I'll be picking up the pieces soon enough with him, because I know you cannot stay."

Hermione's eyes closed on the very idea of her leaving Sirius in shambles over her. They'd barely said any intimate confessions, but she was sure of the feelings she had for him.

"If it matters at all, you made a difference in him," Remus offered. He lowered his wand as he spoke close to her. He watched her expression change.

Her eyes closed and single light tears began to slowly cascade down her cheeks. Wiping them away with her shirt sleeve, she managed, "It wasn't my intention-"

"Shh! Please don't explain, you know you can't. I just wanted to say good-bye."

There was a silent stillness about them, like all the energy had been sucked out and not even movement of air was traveling around them. Like the planet had stopped rotating around the sun and the moon had gone out, everything was still to her and without thinking and without reason hugged Remus. Tightly and lovingly, she hugged him with the desperation she needed to unload. He returned her hug somewhat awkwardly, but he eventually wrapped his arms around her.

The sound of someone clearing his throat broke the moment, followed by, "Something I should know?"

Hermione pulled away slowly and looked over to Sirius who was standing the doorway holding two butter beers. At first, she wanted to tell him it was nothing, like it truly was, but she had to think in his mind what he may have come across without knowing the full story. She couldn't tell him and she was unsure of how to explain it.

"It's nothing, Padfoot," Remus said rather calmly. His own tone of voice surprised him, believing the truth of the action. It really was nothing.

"Why are you hugging my girl?" he asked quick, immediately suspicious.

"Sirius, it's nothing. I'm just a little emotional right now with all of this. Like I told you in the kitchen. Really, honey, it's nothing."

But Sirius was staring at Remus, like he'd just noticed something in his friend that was a glimmer of dishonesty and allowed his own suspicions to sink in.

"You wouldn't turn your back on us, would you mate?" Sirius asked with a sly eye. He watched Remus carefully, waiting for him to attack at any moment.

"Sirius, please! I would never and you know that. You're just being over paranoid, friend. We're all getting really paranoid with all of this."

The returning energy in the room, or at least the air stirring around them, fought with a fierce vengeance. Sirius had walked in at the wrong moment to aid his suspicions of his friend and now with his own girlfriend, he was a little set off. In fact, for the next half hour, very little was said between them and with Hermione affixing the spells alongside of them, it was becoming increasingly uncomfortable.

Around three in the morning, the crew had finished their casting and had retired to their respected rooms. They'd worked all day and all night and their bodies were taking an evil toll, even if none of them were over twenty-two. Sirius and Hermione took the bedroom on the first floor while Peter and Remus had taken the extra guest rooms on the second floor.

The bedroom was simple, just a double bed, dresser and nightstand. Moderate furnishings hung on the walls from various wizard artists that changed colors with the mood of the room. As they walked in tired and worn out, the room reflected a grayish blue.

Hermione was opening up her knapsack and as Sirius left the room to use the bathroom, she quickly slipped off her Time Turner and slid it into one of the secret pockets inside. She didn't need it accidentally slipping out from under her nightshirt as she slept, forcing an undesirable conversation in the morning amongst the house.

Sirius returned and was sliding his shirt over his head to display himself as tempting to her as a decadent dessert. His messy black hair fell over his nicely tanned shoulders that moved against his muscles nicely. Hard at work all night had built up a slight sweat in him and it only added to his appeal.

"I wasn't happy with that display that I walked in on tonight," he finally said, unbuttoning his jeans and sliding them down his slender legs to change into linen pants to sleep in.

"Sirius, really it was nothing suspicious. I promise you that," she said in a more convincing voice. She lifted her own shirt over her head, subconsciously thinking that if she wore less clothing in front of him, he'd be more apt to believe her.

He was distracted for a few extra seconds, but quickly caught himself and sat down on the edge of the bed. "I'm sure, love. It's just that...I don't know," he shook his head somewhat frustrated. "I know I can trust you when I tell you that I have my doubts in him lately."

"Sirius! He's not doing anything shady towards me," she said, sliding her jeans down her legs in a less graceful way.

Sirius watched her as his thoughts began to take him over. His shoulders sunk defeated, his hands folded before him and he stared at the rug as she changed into a sleep shirt. His mind was racing, plagued with somewhat disturbing thoughts.

"I believe you, because he knows I won you, not him."

"I'm not a prize," she said quietly, walking as she took her hair down.

Once she was within distance, he reached out and pulled her to stand before him between his legs. His strong hands smoothed over her bottom and his chin rested against her stomach as he peered up at her, "Oh, you are to me."

She couldn't help but offer a slight smile over his sincere words and she gazed down at him as if he were a gift sent to her from the Heavens. She admired his handsome chiseled face, pushing the stray locks of hair from his face to better see him. The young man that hugged her waist was still the man she rescued out of the Veil. The same man that might be waiting for her to come home.

"I've fallen so hard for you Hermione, it nearly hurts."

"Sirius, please don't tell me that-"

"And I don't want you to go back to America."

His last words forced her to close her eyes in order to force back the moisture forming in her tear ducts. She was fighting herself to not let him see her cry and to pretend that he hadn't just asked her of that.

"I'm telling the truth when I tell you that when I was going to be the Secret Keeper, I was going to hide...with you. I wasn't going to let you argue, but I was going to take you away with me to a beautiful tropical island, where no one would know us. Somewhere bright and happy, somewhere Death Eaters couldn't stand the sun."

Hermione's heart was racing again, her breath was practically ragged and her eyes felt wet. He gazed up at her hopeful and loving, she could only say no in her heart. Words or anything close to being vocal escaped her as he told her the tale of their tropical solitude.

"...we'd come to visit when the coast was clear, just for a little bit. Long enough to see Harry getting older then go back into hiding so that they would be okay. We'd contact your family of course, and let them know that you were done with your studies, done with your work, and I would take care of you."

Like slow moving credits, streams of tears started down Hermione's cheeks. She could no longer stop them and she couldn't say anything back. Instead, she just held his cheek in her hand and leaned down to kiss him. Feeling his soft lips against hers was beyond worldly and it gave her peace within to be connected to him. He believed her to be his world alongside the world he knew, wanting to bring her into it and his future ahead of him - wherever that took him. Never before in her life had she been loved this much by a person; he simply told her what he wanted of her. Never had she known that peace and rightness could be so satisfying.

In her own way, without words, she told him that she wanted him. Whether it was that night, that future, or just the moment when she felt his fingers bringing her nightshirt over her head, she wanted him in every way. She wanted to go home to her time and take him again. She wanted to go back to Grimmauld Place and seek him out and make him remember this very moment when he made her feel like the Queen of his universe and the Goddess to his sun. She wanted him to remember the way she helped him crawl backwards on the bed to rest against the pillows as their nearly naked bodies draped over each other. She wanted to make him feel young again, to love life again and to know what it felt like to have her hasty hands work their way to removing his linen pants that sat low on his hips to fall to the floor. She wanted him to whisper her name between kisses, just like he was now, as she worked with him to remove her panties so that they could be joined in the biblical sense.

"Accio wand!" Hermione said quickly, freeing her hand and catching it in the air. "Silencio!"

He slid his hand against hers, taking her wand away and resting it on the nightstand, "That won't work here." He quickly rolled on top of her to begin his tease of prodding.

"Why not?" she asked seductively, nibbling his lower lip with need.

"Because of the baby, love. They don't permit silencing spells in the house so they can hear him from every room."

Just as Sirius pushed beyond his threshold, his cock plunging deep inside of her, she gritted her teeth and closed her eyes with desperate passion, "That's...that's not going to work...Siriussssss!"

"I know, but it's their problem not ours," he grunted, tasting her lips so that he might muffle a little bit of her pining pleasure.

She was able to hush her screams into small grunts that encouraged him to press on, but the idea of trying to be quiet only fueled their fire stronger. It was a mission and they tried rather well, but they could not help but push the headboard a little too hard once every fourth pump, emitting a pant and catch of breath. He interlaced their hands and pinned her down as she bit the air with sensual torture. Her hair was sprayed all around her crown, turning it into a tumbled mess. Their body temperatures were way up and they flirted with the idea of opening a window to cool them off in the act, but the question of neighbors coming to knock on a camouflaged house would be rather shady. Still, they sucked, bit and lapped spare body parts to satisfy their cries of passion, making the episode erotically stronger.

"Oh Sirius...don't stop, love...uh, uh," her high pitched whines got higher and higher that even Sirius was hearing them loud and clear; his canine senses on overdrive with her pitch.

"Oh god, Hermione! You feel incredible-"

"Fuck me, Sirius! Just...yes, yes, yes...so deep!"

He went for her neck, biting down just enough to make her ears tingle at their tips and she heard him whispering the Russian spell. With a quicker pace, like a jogger giving the last few sprints, he lost himself with her and poured himself to her limits; their wetness sliding together smooth and easy.

Soon the room had started to change from blood red to neutral pale beige with shades of earthy greens. The energy was slowly coming down and all that could be heard were the exhausted pants, like their world was coming to an end. They still clung to each other, exercising their mutual gratitude with sincere romantic kisses that were enough to stir up another session, but they were both very exhausted. The emotional turmoil they had created was enough to drain them of any remaining potential for another go, to a couple that was satisfied to remain clinging to one another until the sun came up.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

"I see everyone was up late today if it's nearly noon and we're just sitting down to breakfast," Sirius said as he entered the kitchen the next morning.

The picture perfect crew was just coming alive in the later morning hours just a few strokes away from noon. Peter was sitting at the table reading the Daily Prophet, Lily was standing at the stove charming a spatchula to flip the pancakes for her, Remus was fixing his tea and James practically had his whole entire head in the refrigerator.

"Yeah, well-" James started, pausing to yawn, "Harry woke us up early this morning already, but then Lily and I just went back to bed."

"Good morning," Hermione said feebly as she took in the scene before her. The job of the Secret Keeper still looming over her as guilty beady eyes stared at her from behind a Daily Prophet that flickered with flashbulbs in small boxes.

"Good morning, Hermione," Lily said first, followed by a small chain of mutual greetings. "Pancakes or toast, love?"

Hermione had been reading the front cover of the wizard news announcing the capture of more Death Eaters, that she didn't hear Lily talking to her until she felt Sirius nudge her from behind to break her train of thought. "Just toast, thank you!" she nodded.

"Oh, an owl came for you, Padfoot," Remus said, tossing his friend the letter that he had in his pocket.

Sirius caught it with definite grace and nodded, "Cheers." Opening it up, his eyes scanned the contents and he summarized it aloud, "Andromeda says, 'considering the recent events, we're going to indefinitely postpone our Sundays. We don't need friends out traveling in the line of danger just for my world famous martinis. Love to you all. Stay safe.' Well, can't say I didn't see that coming. Here's to the end of another tradition..." he said raising the nearest cup.

"Sirius, don't think that way," said Lily. Her pancakes had stacked themselves on a serving plate nearby.

"Sorry Lils, just another thing that the bastards are taking away from us. Next, they'll be blowing up stores in Diagon Alley," Sirius said, falling into a seat next to Peter. His body slouched like a pouting little boy.

"It's for the best," Hermione added, trying to lift Sirius's spirits in a time of turmoil.

"Oh, the hell with that," James said, finally closing the refrigerator and carrying two bottles, a plate of butter, syrup and milk for the tea. He looked so unbalanced; it was a miracle he made it to the kitchen counter. "I just wish they'd give us the next plan of action. What the hell is Dumbledore waiting on, anyway?"

"James, stop. What part of, 'we're a target' isn't quite fitting in? That's his next move: guarding us," Lily said turning around at her husband's mini tantrum with a spatchula in her hand like a wand.

"She's right, Prongs," piped in Remus.

"Just don't," James snapped. He was obviously not taking this fear well, once it had settled in that he had to camouflage his house and live his life in captivity.

"We could just go out fighting like we had always planned," Sirius said still slouching. He had thrown it out there to his friend, just to test the waters.

Immediately, James turned around to meet Sirius's eyes from standing by the counter, "Right you are, Padfoot. Just appear with our wands blazing, death in our eyes to put fear in theirs..."

"Send Voldemort, taking my gnarly cousins with him and for an added bonus..."

"James, stop it!" Lily barked, trying to intervene. The two men had resorted to talking like they were young boys again.

"Yes?" James said, his eyes alight and eager to leave at that moment.

Remus shook his head and glanced over to a worrying Hermione. "They do this all the time."

"We shave Lucius's head and skin Snape!"

The two men had gone from determined, to evil, to silly school boys in twelve seconds, where they were so into their scheming, they erupted into a fit of cackling laugher. Tears were streaming down Sirius's cheeks as he doubled over and James used the counter to keep him standing. They went on and on for a few more minutes about what ridiculous feats they could master, all in the name of Voldemort, but came out just pulling the others' leg harder and harder. What sounded as serious as a heart attack at first, was quickly becoming foolish drunken taunts fueled by the reality of the severe situation. If this was how they were going to deal with the stress and seriousness at hand, then let them.

The group sat down for breakfast in the midst of laughter and childish scheming, pretending, even for a few moments, that all was well and death was not around the corner.

REASON FOR LIFE. Ch. 27

2009-09-13T15:08:12Z

Title: REASON FOR LIFE
Ch. 27 "Everything Becomes Clear"
Sirius/Hermione
Rated: NC17 *overall

Ch. 27

The balmy wind was moist and unfriendly as it blew across Sirius's stone face that was set in thought. His body sat naturally on the back of the motorbike, his arms relaxed, but his grip on the handlebars was tense. His hair flew wildly around his head; he was otherwise too preoccupied to tie it back into a restraint.

Leaving the Order meeting stirred up several unfamiliar emotions in Sirius. He made a promise with his friends that he would obey the requests of wiser older members of the secret society in order to be a part of it. Though clever and powerful, his generation was still thought of as students and sometimes reckless with their decisions (although, contrary to what Dumbledore may think, his and James's narrow escape from both Death Eaters and the muggle police was rather ingenious). But, it was the mental turmoil he was battling as he rode into the night air in the direction of his former Professor's home.

Taking so long to get to know a witch, only to discover that she was the type of woman he was unknowingly searching for, was hell. He was plagued with the idea of her departure - going back to America. Sure he could travel, but even traveling by Floo Network Local was risky and dangerous, let alone Floo Network International. Though one might attempt to cross over the pond, who knows if that network wasn't the first to be infiltrated with Death Eaters? Speaking through the fires would only satisfy him for so long, not to mention the risk of losing her to a nice American wizard closer to her. Then who would protect her? Truly protect her? Sirius wanted to be that wizard for her and not just because he was incredibly selfish to want to see her every day or spend all hours making love to her or just knowing that he didn't have to try and impress her with his good looks and suave skills. She just wasn't that type. But, she was his type.

Sirius Black was definitely falling in love.

The rumbling of the engine echoed down the street as he touched down onto the earth from being camouflaged by low clouds. He pulled into the small drive of the house and parked his bike. He felt like he had lead in his boots, his steps were so slow and heavy. His mind was racing around what he was going to have to say, how he was going to say it and lastly, if he said it at all. Surely, if she remained in the house on Marley Street, Professor McGonagall would know and ultimately, take it out on Sirius for disobeying her direct orders.

As the door got closer and his steps slower, his heart began to beat a few paces quicker with the idea of seeing her after a long day. But, as much as he couldn't wait to set eyes on her, he truly didn't want to speak to her.

Before he had reached the top step, Hermione had already sensed his presence and swung open the front door. She met him with a glowing smile that showed her near perfect teeth and wearing nothing fancier than a pair of blue jeans and green hoodie. To her it was plain, but to him it was fitting, because he realized he didn't need all of the other things to make her his type.

He took a step over the threshold and put a hand on her cheek to kiss her. His lips smoothed over hers softly, but intimately enough to just slide his tongue past hers. He felt her hands guide up his arms to rest around his shoulders, welcoming him warmly with a homecoming. He slid his hands easily around her waist, pulling her in so that they were as close as two lovers could be.

"I've a confession to make," she whispered as their lips parted.

"What's that?" His voice was quiet with her; he gently nuzzled his nose with hers.

"I didn't stay in today. I know, I'm sorry, but I just couldn't. I had things to do and -"

"I figured you wouldn't. I can't keep you locked up, even if it is for your own good."

She grinned at him for a few seconds before kissing him again. Something about having him back again and not with much time left to spend with him made her feel very needy. She wanted to cherish him, love him, and still somehow convey to him that he does matter to people in the future. Even if they weren't going to be the way they are now.

"Let's go out, tonight. Dinner? A walk? Let's just get out," he suggested. They were still standing in the doorway with their arms around each other; the night air brought a chill into the house behind them.

"I'd like that."

For a few moments, the danger outside lurking around dark alleys seemed to be pressed to the back of her mind. Perhaps some of his irresponsibility was starting to rub off on her?

The dinner was spent together in a small muggle Italian restaurant that Sirius enjoyed. Small conversation was shared, but mostly it was enjoyed with at least one hand being held. Their shoes crossed over once or twice, giving comfort that the other was there.

A couple of times, Sirius charmed the waiter to make "googly" eyes at Hermione whenever he'd return to the table. Fortunately, Hermione knew the counter curse and half way through dinner the waiter began making "googly" eyes at Sirius. It then proceeded to make him rather uncomfortable and he surrendered to her cleverness after the waiter dropped his napkin to the floor just to check out Sirius's thighs.

"So, you haven't asked me where I go when I've left you," he said, after the waiter had long forgotten all about him thanks to a sly wink from Hermione.

"Well, it's none of my business," she said, busying herself with a sip from her newly filled glass. She already knew he was going to Order meetings.

"Yes, it is," he corrected. "I want you to know where I go. At least I want you to care, where I go."

"I care!" she said, perhaps a little too quick and too loud. She cleared her throat and looked around, seeing if anyone had noticed her changed volume.

"I'm glad. But, just in case....well, if I don't come back-"

"Sirius, please don't."

"Hermione, I don't want you to get the wrong idea if something were to happen to me."

"Don't worry, I won't," she said. He raised an eyebrow at her words. "I mean, I won't get the wrong idea if you didn't come back. I mean...this is coming out all wrong." She thought about herself not coming back to him when he gets taken away to Azkaban.

Sirius was not convinced. He eyed the last cooked tomato on his plate and stuck it with his fork, holding it out to feed her. Her lips curved and she leaned in close enough to open her mouth. Very gently, he fed her the tomato and said, "I'm a member of a secret society against Voldemort."

She nearly choked and looked around the restaurant to make sure no one had heard him. Her eyes landed back on him and she shushed him as she chewed quickly. "Keep your voice down!"

"Oh, you can't be afraid to say his name, Hermione. Fear of a name only increases the fear itself," he said as a matter of fact and resumed to pick at any remainders on his plate unimpressed by her scolding.

Hermione quickly played it off that she was only frightened of him saying the name and not of the Order itself. She cleared her throat again and took another sip of wine to calm her nerves that seemed to be wearing thin with their conversation.

"Anyway, you seem like you would be the type to fight with us, but just for the record, you're not allowed to join."

"Excuse me? Why? You don't think I could fight?"

"No, that's not it all. I don't want you to fight. So, before you learn any more of it, I am not recruiting you so let us make sure that's clear. Beyond that, I want you no part of it. But, I just thought you should know where I went off to in the event that I don't return to you someday." His voice was not concerned and went on as if he was talking about the weather to anyone that would listen. It was almost as if he just enjoyed hearing the sound of his own voice ramble on.

"Sirius, please let's not talk about this right now," Hermione insisted. She picked up her fork to resume eating, but had otherwise lost her appetite with Sirius's dismal conversation and reminder that his fate was soon to come.

"No, I think we should, love," he said in the tone almost like a parent. "Things are rather heated now both outdoors and indoors," he looked up to give her an obvious wink, "and I thought it best that you know just in case I get blown up, or worse, killed."

Hermione's brow furrowed and she bit her lower lip, but not in any other manner than just beginning to worry about his safety. She could not meet his eyes, for fear that she would allow her emotions get the better of her and send her into a fit of brewing tears. It saddened her to think that in the next few days he would be wrongfully locked up and absolutely devastated. That alone was enough to make her set her fork down and tilt her face away so that he could not see her eyes beginning to well up. She used her hand to shield herself from the rest of the restaurant as she quietly composed herself.

"...so, on that note, I spoke with your Aunt today."

Hermione quickly looked up, her eyes bright and slightly teary. "You did?"

"Yes, and she, ah, had me relay a message to you."

"And what was that?" Hermione asked as she used the corner of her napkin to dab under her eyes. Her stomach was barely settling at the mention of McGonagall.

Sirius took a moment to persuade himself to not tell her the truth of her insisted departure. He had waited for the right time to mention it, just to keep his conscience clear and honest, but something within was telling him otherwise. "She gave me instructions for you," he started, setting his own fork down. Things were falling too well into perspective and her worked up emotional state over the thought of him dying was a bit of a clincher for him. He didn't want to send her away. So, before he could second think anything he spat out, "She said you should stay with me."

Hermione's eyebrows rose in subtle shock while Sirius continued to look down at the base of his wineglass. The two were silent for only a couple of seconds before she asked, "She said I should stay with you?"

Sirius nodded slightly, for he could barely believe he had said it himself. If anything, he was preparing for some sort of rejection, no realizing that their relationship had only just been consummated a few days ago. The mention of her moving in with him, for however long left him slightly dazed, but confident. All he could do was sit and wait and see if it was something she would consider if it meant she would stay for a little bit longer.

"At your house?"

His eyes slowly met hers under a curtain of black fringe framing his handsome sharp face. His features were shadowed by the low light.

"Until you go home," he quietly added, as if it would lighten the shock on her. He was having a hard time reading her.

Hermione sighed and let his words sink into her without any doubt in her mind that he was fibbing. "She's worried about me, isn't she?"

He hesitated at first, but then nodded, "She is."

They shared a moment between each other, letting unspoken words transpire as the restaurant ambiance tinkered around them. The soft music in the background added a personal soundtrack as they took in the time they had left on both parts.

Then a slow realization surfaced that Sirius may not be giving her the complete message and otherwise interpreted it through his own thoughts and feelings. But, the way he looked to her, so hopeful, so sincere, there was no way she was going to be able to say no to him.

"She wants me to go home, doesn't she?" she questioned.

Sirius grimaced and looked away, slightly nodding. Then, he looked back at her and said in a whisper, "I don't want you to go home."

The sad inflection in his voice was like a quiet little soldier waving a white flag. He was not very good at lying, for his sincerity bled through. He was composed, reserved and not the wild, ungrounded man that he was perceived to be. He had displayed a child-like innocence within; something only his friends saw. It tugged at her heartstrings to know that he wanted her to stay with him, even if he had no idea how short lived it would be.

Everything thus far had told her to go home. What she'd done, what she'd gotten involved in, what she had experienced were all vicious taboos that made the Memory Charm necessary. However, her heart told her no. She wanted to stay with him and even if McGonagall recommended otherwise, she would stay with him until the end.

"All right," she said barely in her own voice.

His eyes met hers brightly, "All right, you'll stay with me?" He couldn't help but flash a slight boyish smile.

This is incredibly irresponsible!

"Yes, I'll stay with you," she swallowed, "until I go home." Her Time Turner was practically burning against her skin under her shirt.

He was fine to hear only the first part of her answer, because the last half was a dulling dismal reminder of what he would try and prevent. Sure there was more out there than the two of them sitting at the small table in the restaurant, but what good was fighting a deadly battle if you forget what you're fighting for?

After dinner, the two of them rode back into the thick darkness on his motorcycle. The moist air kissed their faces as if the sky had been crying. Lately, the clouds never cleared, the sun barely shined and everywhere you went you feared death was following you. Rising up into the air pressed tightly and secured behind her wizard was no longer giving her the rush she wanted to revel in, for every rev of the engine, or touching down on the streets, was one more ride closer to his last. He showed such joy in taking her along with him or just riding about into the air, that it was going to be like yanking a favorite toy from a child when his last days came upon him. As the tips of his hair tickled her face, she closed her eyes to imagine if he would still enjoy riding a motorcycle.

The cleansing of McGonagall's house was much easier than anticipated. She hadn't spread her books out all over the little cottage house, but only over the span of a few rooms. She occupied Sirius with allowing him to tidy up the dishes with the charmed scrub brush, while she tossed books into her bottomless backpack as quickly as she could. She did her best to hide suspicious titles from curious eyes. Once packed, Hermione left a note on the table thanking her "Aunt" for her hospitality and a promise to see her very soon. With a last flick of her wrist, the door was locked, the doggy door was blocked and she was already back on the motorcycle behind Sirius with her arms wrapped tightly around his waist.

"Tea love?" Sirius asked as he opened the front door with a slight flick of his wrist where his wand was extended. He had her backpack over his shoulder and was holding the door open as she walked passed him into the foyer.

"Yes, please," she said, shrugging her sweater off her shoulders.

The house had a warmer feeling to it when Hermione walked inside. Something comforting in the air met her senses; she listened carefully to every single sound settling in the house. She walked ahead of him towards the kitchen, knowing her way rather well by this time, until her arm was grabbed and she was swung around quickly with her back up against the hallway wall.

He was on her like he'd just met her in a dark alley with no thought to her comfort. He kissed her full and hard, like he might have known they didn't have a lot of time. He wanted to make sure she remembered that kiss. His hands roamed down the sides of her body, squeezing her waist and making her arms drape around his neck.

The intensity of his kiss lightened, pulling away slowly and leaving her eyes half closed. He heard his name fall quietly from her lips in a sigh and he gently rubbed his nose along the side of her ear. The tick of the clock chimed the half hour and their dream was lifting and bringing them back to the foyer of the house.

"I just wanted you to know how pleased I am that you're here and close. I don't want to have to worry about you." His voice was desperate, but passionate, like a man with only a few last requests.

"I'm not a bird to be caged, Sirius. The world will still get me," she replied coming out of her hypnotic trance unwillingly.

"I know, but I want to keep you to myself for as long as possible."

Minimal words, but he still looked upon her like she held the world for him. His silky locks were soft between her fingers as she stroked the back of his neck lovingly. As she took in the curve of his nose, the raise of his eyebrow, and his sharpness of his jaw, she'd never realized the resemblance he shared with his cousin Bellatrix. A sad reminder of his fate and the curse of the Black bloodline.

"I'm a very selfish man," he mumbled into her neck as he pulled her in close again.

With his arms wrapping around her, he cradled her against him. With their intimacy evolving to a stronger respect, they embraced in more of a holy sense. Their bodies were close, hipbones touched, hearts beat with the song of need and both chins resting on the other's shoulder. They took on a nice sway, no longer needing the wall for support.

As her heart beat strong, her head was light. He proceeded to stroke the back of her head to him in a more desirable fashion. Ever so attracted to one another, it was the want and need of the other that was feeding this tender moment in the foyer of his house. It elevated Hermione to a new emotion, confirming that it wasn't just him that wanted her there; it was she needing him to hold her. For the first time in a man's arms, she felt protected. Danger lurked everywhere, the battle ensued and still she never felt safer than in the arms of Sirius Black.

He kissed her temple, down her cheek bone and then back up along her earlobe. His fingers would graze over her skin where he had left a kiss, worshipping every small area. Entirely grateful that he was able to discover her, he was even more grateful that she was falling for him in the same fashion. The proof was his name being whispered over and over again by the tip of her tongue.

His lips ran softly over her ear, "Я думаю, что я нуждаюсь в Вас."

"What?"

"I think I need you."

She held him tight, clutching him warmly and defiantly to all those that would appose and let his words sink deep into her core. It settled into her nicely, like she had wanted him to say it and that's why she did not pull away. She continued to allow herself to revel in the strong arms that came around to rest on her hips and lightly stroke her back, only to find herself drifting into the same thoughts he had. She wanted so badly to return it for him, anything, something, to let him know that she was there for him. She would gladly be that beacon of hope in his later years, if he wanted her.

She tightened her grip to an almost too honest confession, because she wanted to tell him why she was there. She wanted to let him know what he meant to so many in the future, that having this moment was just one of many, if he allowed it. His heart was so untarnished now and willing to accept something good. Like his brother-like friendship to James, it was an honest and true feeling for his friend. Something both men needed in their lives. He needed Remus as well, for Remus always seemed to be the shadowed friend that was not held as special as James. But, as he'll soon learn, friends are your family, because regardless they will always love and help you.

Then, without thinking, she opened him up to her heart, "I think I need you, too."

Every bit of him seized that very moment. Never before in his life had he felt so complete, so favored and so honest for a woman before. She welcomed him in closely, lovingly and she returned his kiss freely and as spiritually as he'd ever dreamed. She was quickly becoming his home, his safe place, his world away from danger and it was all something he didn't realize he needed, but it was worth exploring, even if she had to return to where she came from.

Once their interlude had subsided, both their hearts racing, Sirius pulled away to interlace his hand with hers to take her along into the kitchen for that tea he had promised. He had no intention of letting her out of his sight, even if just for a second, because she just seemed too good to be true for him.

Her long brown wavy hair rested romantically over her shoulders that made it difficult for him to look away. Once again, he had her pressed up against the counter of the kitchen and with a teasing finger he ran it over her arm with a flirty wink. He tried to entice her with his sultry eyes peering from beneath wispy black locks, but she turned away and pulled her wand out to charm the tea kettle.

With her back to him, Sirius slinked in close and rested his hands on her waist. He slid his arms further around her and rested his chin gently on her shoulder. He watched the way she held her wand loosely in her fingers from charming the kettle and then setting it down on the counter to free both her hands to slide over his that circled her waist. He hugged her close, taking in her fragrant scent that made his senses soar. Her skin felt soft against his cheek as he nuzzled her, leaving a few kisses on her bare neck.

Her eyes closed as his sincere caressing felt so natural and right. His arms protected her, his body fit perfect with hers and he was able to make her feel so beautiful with only the mildest of touches. Together they swayed as one while standing there in the kitchen, like they'd done it several times before. Alone in their own world, they felt free to conquer.

Hermione was immediately startled when the fireplace across the room lit up in a greenish flame and two people came staggering out of it, having traveled via Floo Network. Their balloon of privacy was deflating as the two individuals dusted themselves up and looked about the room. Remus and Peter called out Sirius's name, but refrained from raising their volume when they saw their friend snuggling close to Hermione.

"I'm here," Sirius said while standing behind Hermione. His hands were slowly moving off of her. "Look mates, we're going to have to come with some sort of code."

"Sorry mate," Peter said rather curt, "didn't know!"

Remus saw Hermione first and for a split second, it was almost as if he was ashamed to look at her. She felt a slight burn in her throat when their eyes met and a silent exchange passed, but it was obvious it was not to be spoken of.

“What is it? Wormtail, why are you so jittery?” Sirius asked while coming out from behind Hermione, who had since stepped away from Sirius as well to let the men speak. She picked the kettle up off the stove and proceeded to make tea without being too nosy.

“Sorry to intrude, Hermione,” Remus said as he walked to the counter. When they met eyes again, he nodded politely. “Sirius, we can’t waste time. James and Lily have to hide. Snape came to us-”

“SNAPE!” Sirius interjected and looked absolutely appalled. The mere name of Snape made Sirius forget about tea that Hermione was currently stirring and summon a beer from his refrigerator.

“Yes, he’s one of us, now!” Peter piped in, waving a finger to Hermione as if she was a cute little girl.

Hermione forced a smile as she listened in, though quietly repulsed by his very being. Already, Peter's words were crawling with disloyalty to the men that stood in that room and it was making her stomach lurch with the future outcome. But, the raised voices between Sirius and Remus were beginning to get a little too distracting.

“The hell he is! He’s a fucking Death Eater, don’t be daft!”

"He's right, Sirius. Snape has turned sides-"

"He's Voldemort's puppy, just like the rest of the lot. There's no way that git-"

"Sirius, we have to go on Dumbledore's word! There's no arguing. Snape went to him claiming-" Remus was beginning to feel that he was trying to argue with a wall. He was, however, used to this.

"He's a liar!" Sirius shouted, slamming his open palm against his kitchen counter. The two other wizards watched him cautiously, afraid to press on with their long time friend.

"There's no way I'm going to believe a word that drops from that-"

"Sirius, someone has been slipping information to You-Know-Who about our goings on," Remus finally squeezed it. Peter stood next to him like a silent cheerleader.

Slowly, Sirius disregarded his interest in Hermione that stood behind him making tea and went sheet white over the news. His shouting had subsided and calm insanity began to creep in. "What? Who? An Order member? Certainly not. I would gladly die for any of those people, just like I would for you two! Merlin's Beard, if I find out who it is...I'll...I'll..."

"Sirius, calm down! Don't just jump to conclusions, yet-" Remus attempted, but Sirius's temper was rising quicker than on full moon during a transformation.

Hermione felt that she needed to make herself scarce, so she ducked away with her tea in hand and retired to a less populated part of the kitchen counter. She could see her handsome dark wizard becoming increasingly more threatening by the tone of his voice and the balling of his fists. However, her attention wasn't on Sirius so much as it was on Peter. She remained uninvolved, but acutely aware of the conversation at hand. It was like reading the prequel of a good saga that she'd known her whole life and it was the one silver moment to learn the truth of where things began. As much as she hated, truly hated Peter, she needed to feign a tolerance for the rat in order to remain convincing. But, her eyes were on him like a hawk, watching him fidget and squirm in his own shoes.

"Calm down?" Sirius yelled. His voice sounded like a bullet shot and Hermione jumped at his temper exploding. "Moony, what part of this can I be calm about? They have to hide. They have to go into hiding, that’s it. And I...” Before he could finish, Sirius glanced over to Hermione and let his voice fade out. She was a tortured reminder of his duty.

“We’re staying at James’s house tomorrow night to add more charms and jinxes on the house," Remus finally got a word in.

"For a final drink," Sirius said under his breath.

"Dumbledore is there now. We can’t let this wait....we have to act now, as you would say.”

“It’s for their sake and Harry’s," Peter charmed, slightly hesitant. "They’re starting the spells tonight. It’ll be a long process, so we’re going there tomorrow to help with the extra sealing charms.” His confidence was beaming. He tried so hard to finally find his place and between the three of them, he felt like he had, but his insistence proved his guilt. Even his tone of voice was misguiding, as he made protection spell casting at the Potters' house like an invite to a party.

For a few minutes, the last thing heard was the pouring of amber liquid into a short glass on the counter. Sirius had made his way to his liquor cabinet and taken out a bottle Jack Daniels muggle whiskey. Nothing magic, just old fashioned liquor that made bad things go away. He lifted the glass to his lips and knocked back the contents as if he were the only one in the room. As the glass was slammed back down on the counter, Sirius ran his free hand through his tousled black locks.

“Tomorrow," he said low and gravely, almost hoarse. He did not look around, but straight down at the half empty bottle before he finished his thought, "At James and Lily’s. I’ll be there.” The sound of defeat in his voice indicated that the Marauders Age was coming to an end and the unstoppable quad was now at a crossroad that their very reputation was at stake - one of their own had been threatened and it was all too real to comprehend.

Remus nodded, satisfied that it was the best answer he was going to be able to get. He glanced to Hermione, but she was preoccupied with watching Sirius pour another glass and empty it as if it were pumpkin juice from Hogwarts breakfast. He noticed the genuine concern she had for him.

Sirius looked up and met her eyes and the two made a silent exchange that provoked Sirius into walking around the kitchen counter and resting a hand on the small of her back, “We’ll be there.”

"Sirius..." she whispered, but it was Remus that was declaring his concern.

"Sirius, I don't think it's the right place for her to be-"

“She comes with me!” he yelled. The harboring animal was slowly creeping out; his temper was a short fuse.

Peter nodded his head to his friend and glanced at Remus, “Fine, whatever you want, Sirius.”

“I have to warn you that things might not go as-”

“I know how they might not go, Remus! I’ve seen all of this coming and now for you two to confirm that someone has been leaking information through...it just disgusts me! After all that we’ve been trying to prove...after all that we’ve been fighting for! We’re the young ones for Merlin’s sakes! We’re the ones who are supposed to be making a difference and now I hear we’ve got a spy amongst us? How do I know it’s not one of you two?”“Sirius, please!” Remus pled. There was desperation in his voice.

“Just go, both of you! I need to think this out. My head is completely fucked.”

Sirius ran another hand through his hair; his mind was in complete disarray. His insides were crawling and he felt so unsure of himself with his quickly rising temper that he forced himself to be grounded with the slightest touch of Hermione's hand that lay lonely on the counter top.

Suddenly unsure of Sirius's state, she threw a sympathy look towards Remus who was otherwise just shaking his head as if telling her not to bother. It concerned her that he'd lashed out on Remus. Peter, show wouldn't care, but Remus? He had always supported Sirius in the past, their future that it pained her to know that he come up short with his werewolf friend - didn't they know they were going to be the only ones left? Didn't he know that Remus wanted so badly to help Sirius and even moved in with him at Grimmauld Place during her fifth year so he wouldn't be lonely?

No, he didn't. Because, Remus wasn't James.

"Good luck," Remus whispered to Hermione and he turned to leave them. He put a hand on Peter's shoulders and the two walked back to the fireplace in moments disappeared, leaving Sirius and Hermione to their own thoughts.

There was an immediate stillness in the house. Sirius finished another glass of whiskey and was already pouring another when the old Hermione took his glass away the second it touched his lips. His mouth still suspended ready to take a drink. He glanced over surprised, unready and without any warning, she slapped him clear across the face. His brow furrowed and in a flash the two of them changed.

She knew he would not recoil, or at least, the older Sirius she knew wouldn’t. Lash out on her he might, but hit her he would never and so she stood her ground. She was appalled at how he treated Remus, tossing him aside like his help didn't matter. She knew the devotion Remus had to Sirius. Even in his weakest days when he first left Azkaban, Remus saw him as a forgiven brother.

“What did-"

“How dare you yell at Remus the way you did! Can’t you see? He’s trying to help you! He’s trying to help the situation and you just bit at him like he didn’t even matter!”

“Hermione, you don’t know what’s going on! You don’t even have the slightest idea what we’re into!”

“Don’t tell me that! I do and I’m not about to have you drag me into it!” she spat, not thinking completely what she saying.

“You don’t and it’s best you don’t ask! But, I will not let you tell me how to view people-” Sirius's temper was rising, he was angry and he was angry at her. His eyes bore down her and she saw the manic man that screamed in the Wanted posters when she was thirteen.

“People? That was Remus! Your brother, your friend...your best friend!”

“James is my best friend-”

“Stop being an ass! James and Remus are your best friends...and Peter too,” she almost choked. “They would die for you, just like you said you would for them and to have you bite their hands off the way you did-”

“Hermione, stop. I don’t need you to fight with me on this, too. Please, let’s just stop-”

“Not until you realize what you just did. Remus came to your side, Peter too,” she caught. “I know the shit is going to hit the fan. I can feel it in the air, it’s not balanced and I don’t want you to do anything you’re going to regret in the future.”

“Future what? Stop thinking so long term. You have to live for the now, Hermione! Now is what matters, now is what is happening!”

Hermione’s lip was starting to quiver. She felt her insides beginning to turn inside out and the idea of Sirius just throwing it all away sickened her. She wanted him to feel remorse; she wanted him to start seeing now the damage he may cause. She couldn’t change the way he thought, because in a couple of days he was going to suspect Remus as the spy and then history will follow. It would only be twelve years from now, when he was alone in a cell, would he regret all that had happened and see a true face in the shrieking shack.

“I always think about the future. It’s what drives me to be a better person, and you should, too.”

Sirius watched her face change from anger to sincerity to pity in a matter of seconds. His heart started to break for her and her plea for him to hear her voice. She called to him and he wanted nothing more than to go to her, take her in his arms and feel her strong heart beating next to his. And so he did.

He grabbed her unsuspectingly there in the kitchen, her mouth muffled into his shirt. He kissed the top of her head and together they cradled each other as if they were each others’ lifeline to support. No one else around, no music in the air, no sounds from outside, just the gentle sounds of the ticking clock and the romantic silence they seemed to create at desperate times.

He pulled back and cradled her face in his palms like a cherished toy. He kissed her forehead, then to her nose and finally left a strong kiss on her lips that she gratefully reciprocated.

“I have never met anyone as passionate as you. I have never known anyone to help me think and no one, not even my mother when I was a child, has taken the time with me to help me see what I look like. I’ve never met a woman...that seemed to care about me, the way you do.”

Hermione was touched by his short speech, honored that she was finally being heard, but torn for not being able to tell him all her truths. She went there for a reason. She never thought she was going to fall in love with him.

“Part of me just wants to look out for you,” she replied with a whispered voice. Their intensity was beginning to overcome her.

“Do I dare ask what the other part of you wants to do?”

To love you.

Hearing him ask was like seeing him for the first time through different eyes. As if someone had dropped cold droplets down her naked skin, she shivered with heightened anticipation. She could barely see straight, she couldn't think straight, but she never felt so on course before in her life. She wanted to tell him how much she loved him and how much damage it was going to cause if she didn't erase his memory later, but all she could do was scream in her head and look into his heavenly grey eyes of mystery and solitude.

He was such a gift, such an amazing person that she'd be insane not to have him in any shape or form. Whether he was twenty-two or thirty-six, she wanted to be his. Her heart was racing for him and as if it were their first kiss all over again, she slowly went in to touch his lips as light as a feather. That was her answer.

"I think you already know."

REASON FOR LIFE ch. 26 "An Order One Should Obey"

2009-08-13T01:45:14Z

REASON FOR LIFE
Ch. 26 - "An Order One Should Obey"
Rating: NC17
Sirius/Hermione

The Three Broomsticks was dustier than ever and darker than usual. The winds were picking up outside. Stronger than the indication that fall was settling in, it was the stir of danger and dark magic together. Two or three people hidden in the shadows mumbled quietly to each other as they paid no attention to the cloaked individual chiming in through the door. Three shrunken heads announced his arrival, but mostly for the sake of their own entertainment.

The busty bar mistress stood behind the counter and gave a curt nod to the new arrival. Madam Rosmerta was always cautious about her bar patrons these days, but she would never say no to a galleon earned. She heard the request of her customer and fixed up a nice frothing butter beer.

Money was left on the counter and the butter beer was carried to a private little nook of the pub where his former Professor sat. Her shawl was pulled tight around her neck, like she had not yet undressed from the windy weather. She kept one hand on the base of her wine glass, while the other protectively clutched around her wand in her lap. She greeted her guest with a stiff smirk and relaxed her shoulders once she was joined in the candle light.

"Mr. Lupin, what did you have to talk to me about that couldn't wait until tomorrow?" she asked, folding her fingers on the small wooden table before them.

Remus pulled back the hood of his traveling cloak, revealing his sandy brown hair and a few scars across his face. He sipped his butter beer and carried an unprepared delivery when requesting McGonagall's meeting.

"Sorry, Professor-"

"Minerva, Remus. You're far beyond Hogwarts. I've told you that several times over."

Remus nodded and feigned a thin smile, "Minerva, right. I won't take up much of your time, but I wanted to talk about...your niece."

McGonagall raised an eyebrow and her lips went thin, "My niece?"

"Hermione?"

"Rose?" she nearly corrected, but caught herself, "Hermione, yes. We used to call her Rose, but..."

McGonagall's voice trailed off, as if frustrated with trying to cover it up. She was normally a woman with stronger patience, but with Hermione changing her name without fair warning was a bit wearing and finally the honesty paled over her face.

"She's not your niece, is she?" Remus tested, his lips just leaving the glass of the butter beer mug.

She let out a heavy sigh and shook her head slightly, "I think you and I both know she's not my niece, Remus." The silence settled a few seconds before she continued, "Why, what's happened?"

At first Remus expected himself to be surprised, but found it intriguing that none of this had caught him off guard and instead just regarded the situation very carefully.

"She's fine. But, it's her situation that I am somewhat worried about, at the present time." Remus looked away to the dusty beam overhead where two mice scurried above them. He was trying to begin his inquiry. "I may have seen something of hers that might raise a few questions. It is mostly my concern for her safety at the present time.”

McGonagall's eyes were slits as she tried to read his thoughts before they left his lips, fearful he may say more than what was safe. She rose her glass to her lips very regally, like she were sitting with a King, but really it was to hide her immediate breath of guilt. She would not normally have given up so quickly, but considering the danger that lurked all around them, she felt it fair to hear her former student out.

"Continue, Mr. Lupin."

"It only made sense to me a few days ago, when it dawned on me about a book she was reading. It's called The White Line by-"

"Say no more. I know the book. It's quite controversial at the moment, as I've heard about it from Madam Pince. But, I think I know where you're going with it." With beaten breath, she gently shook her head. "Before you or I jeopardize any pertinent information, perhaps it’s best if we just carefully speak about this."

Remus nodded, understanding fully about the fragile situation and how it was very necessary not to draw it out into too much conversation. He glanced down at his scarred hands, trying to think about better wording.

"Prof- Minerva, I think it’s best to tell you about what she's been doing or rather-"

"Careful Remus."

"I know," he started quietly. "What I mean is...is that Sirius is growing rather fond of her; attached even. And if she's wearing...that is, if I saw what I'm pretty sure I saw...and you say she is not truly your niece..."

"Sirius fond of any girl does not surprise me."

"No mum, this is different. Like James to Lily...that kind of attached. To put it lightly, it's obvious that they're together."

"Together? As in dating?"

"Yes, Minerva."

"But she can't...she's wearing a...this will seriously corrupt...that's not what it was intended for! Surely, you're just misreading a few things?"

Remus sighed, shaking his head. His fringe fell into his eyes. "I'm afraid I'm not. In her defense, I believe it is a street that runs both ways. She is quite taken with him."

"Well," she said, rather calmly, "I will have to speak to Sirius when I see him. I think it’s time that she goes home. The way things are moving out there, no one is safe from anything and I certainly don't want someone who shouldn't even be here be taken up in the midst of it."

Remus felt like a small balloon was slowly deflating from within. He rather liked Hermione, but he liked her more for his best friend that seemed to quietly envy James for what he had. A brief moment of guilt swept over him, wondering if what he had done was the right thing. Upon hearing the last words of his former Professor he merely nodded, not wishing to think of the aftermath should Sirius lose his own version of a Lily.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Hermione crossed the line she knew she should never have crossed. She had devoured the forbidden fruit and the snake was rearing its ugly head against her. The rippling effects of the future for Sirius had been set. He remembered this time, the emotions...all with her. It was no wonder he was how he was with her in the future: always arguing, putting up a decent jovial front, and the mood swings. Granted, Harry was a more important factor in his time than she was, but certainly from the moments between them that she could recall, she played an important role in his character.

Sirius was now a man that had been abandoned, scorned even, only to be betrayed and disappointed upon his return. How lonely he must have truly felt while alone in the house of Grimmauld Place; thinking back on her, his relationship with Harry, his future and what it held. All of it was just too much to imagine for sanity. What did Sirius believe once Hermione returned? Was he waiting for her? Was he waiting to talk to her about what had transpired between them when he was younger? How were they going to interact, how were they going to fight together in the Order, how were they going to explain it?

Whatever it was, it made Hermione uneasy for the rest of the day. She wondered what Sirius was thinking, but more about where he was. She had paced for a good amount of time thinking about his safety and any rash decisions made at this time of war. She'd already put him in a new mental state than he had been, for he was growing more and more attached to her for obvious reasons.

She lied awake staring at the shadows on the ceiling taking shapes of horrible beings to elegant flowers, from the confines of her bed. The house was settling around her. Ticking clocks rang their first morning hour and still no owl to inform her that her wizard in thought was all right.

Somewhat restless, she pushed herself out of bed and decided to take a shower to relieve her mind of its bothering concern. She stood under the showerhead for a long period of time, hoping the warm water would wash away some of the mental weight that wore heavy on her shoulders. Pictures of him in the future flashed through her mind, almost believing that it was a different person entirely, but it was still all the same soul. The younger jovial Sirius that she'd spent so much time with was just a shadow of what he'd become, but nevertheless he was still there in the Sirius that she had first met. The sparkle in his eye still held a presence and whether she chose to believe it or not, he did seem to have some sort of minute effect on her that had made her breathless on one or more occasion during her teen years.

Her hair was still damp after vigorous towel drying. She slipped on her thin robe that she had borrowed from McGonagall and without looking at the hour for the umpteenth time went down to the kitchen for a hot cup of tea to help her sleep.

"Lumos," she said, extending her wand before she stepped onto the landing.

Quiet treaded steps took her down the stairs and she illuminated a candle whenever she'd pass by one. She passed through the hallway, through the sitting room and into the kitchen where she waved her wand again, "Nox."

She had only one light illuminated to help her see, for she was afraid that any light she gave off out the windows might disrupt the neighbors whose house did sit rather close. She filled the kettle with water and set it on the stove to heat up.

While she gathered up her preparations for when the kettle was ready, she glanced towards the outside window towards the front of the house, believing that her peripheral may have caught something in the shadows. Realizing that her mind alone in the house was merely playing tricks on her, she paid little attention as she believed it may have been a prowling cat. But, when her ears failed to deceive her from the bang of the front gate, her heart jumped into her throat with a start. Her immediate reaction was to blow out the candles of her lantern. She did not wish to draw attention to herself up late in the wee hours of morning.

She heard the definite sound of crunching leaves just outside the kitchen door, indicating that whatever it was stood right on her doorstep. Hermione slowly began to aim her wand at the door, wary of who, or what, it may be that might try and force their way into the house. Then, without a second though, she watched the doggy door begin to move and soon opened its covering flap to allow a familiar looking dog to pass through. It only took a second to recognize the well groomed handsome head with the shiny midnight coat as her wizard in disguise.

The doggy door flapped back and forth in place as Sirius transformed from his Animagus form into that of the man. Sirius hadn't seen her when he first stuck his canine head through the door, but when he was a man again and looked over, he froze. A moment passed between them as their eyes met, unsure of what to say. Only known to a select few, Sirius was stunned when his illegal act was witnessed, remembering that she somehow had figured it out.

"Sirius," she whispered absolutely in awe. She had seen him transform before, a few times, but it was the way he looked at her just then when he just came out of his Animagus form that took her breath away. As if it were the first time she honestly felt the talent radiating from him with such ease, made her mind blank and her heart flutter lightly.

His secret was out and at first he didn't know how to handle it, but soon it was clear that she was meant to know. He saw her dressed in her night robe, her hair damp and her face illuminated by the moonlight shining in from the kitchen window. Like a rose in a bed of thorns, she never looked so appealing.

He couldn't stand to not touch her and so he slowly stepped towards her, approaching as if she were a timid animal before him. She had barely whispered his name, giving him no indication yet of where she stood. However, one thing was certain; she mesmerized him with her captivated eyes.

"You knew I was an Animagus," he said coming closer, sliding his jacket off his shoulders and onto the floor.

He came into her personal space and calmly lowered her wand away from him, like talking down a jumper from a high ledge. She could only nod for him at first, absolutely mystified by his entire being. He exuded sexiness like cologne. Just the tone of his voice, careful and cautious, made her weaker than she'd ever care to admit, making her believe that if she wasn't already falling in love with him, she certainly was now.

He stepped closer to her, his belt buckle practically rubbing up against her. "You're not afraid of me?" There was insecurity in his voice, like he couldn't believe she was still standing there with him.

Still with nothing to say, she slowly shook her head and he was already reaching out to hold her face in his palms to pull her into a much needed kiss. A kiss that he couldn't stop thinking about his entire run there. Still wearing the clothes he left her in, he never wanted to be more naked with her. The fire within him started to blaze with the secret that she was the only other woman, except for Lily, that knew what he could do. Above all else, she didn't run and was desperately falling against him in eager response.

Hermione dropped her wand and ran her hands around his back like he had lit her fuse enough and the dynamite was about to set off. She made small sounds against his mouth as his hands pulled her against him tightly, making them one and feeling the closeness and her lack of clothing underneath.

They wanted this, they had worked themselves up over it and finally she felt his hands beginning to untie her bathrobe with such haste pace that she knew no time was going to be left to make any second decisions about what they were about to do. No more fighting with her conscience, no more testing the rules, no more worrying and no longer could she deny herself the desire and need of his bare hands on her skin.

He opened her bathrobe fully without a thought to her shyness. Like he knew their time was crucial for that moment to happen, he hurried his gestures. It was a little over a week before she would have to leave the young Sirius and go back to him in the future. Back to the reality that James and Lily Potter no longer existed and he had been a man exiled against his own innocence.

Still, without knowing this, he fell to his knees before her like a wanton servant. His hands trailed along her hips, touching her silk-like skin and committing it to memory. Her pale thighs guarded her sex so alluringly with the way her knees bent with modesty.

There were butterflies fluttering in Hermione's stomach. Her own need of him quickly working its way to the tips of her fingers to the bottom of her toes. Her bottom lip quivered with the anticipation of his intimate act that she could nothing more than to run her fingers through his silk black locks. His hands were hot on her bare thighs, gently caressing them like she were fragile, but wanted to be manhandled.

Like praising a Goddess, Sirius willed himself to initiate worshipping but was too impatient. Tempted by the forbidden desire to lick her core, he jumped ahead of himself as carnal lust was taking over. As much as he was poised, ready and wanting to perform the required foreplay, he could not wait a minute longer without making them one.

"I cannot wait," he said in a throaty whisper. He slithered up the length of her body and immediately peeled his own shirt up over his head, tossing to the kitchen floor. His black hair fell messy around his shoulders.

Like a spark igniting her from within, she felt the gravitational pull to him that made her move at a faster pace, forcing her to tear at him feverishly. Her arms went around his neck, her lips on his and he fed off her like he'd been days without water.

He loved the hurried sensation of her wanting him, thriving on the light scratches she was beginning to give on his neck and behind his shoulders. Her bare breasts were pressed against his chest, generating steaming warmth between them as their clothing became less and less. Very quickly, but carefully, he backed her up against the wall as his hands left her to unfasten his belt.

The sliding of skin, the wrestling of clothing, and the jingling of his belt becoming undone was all becoming so erotic that Hermione thought she was having a dream. But, it was when he slid his hands over her bare shoulders under her robe in order to slide it free from her lithe body did she know this was really happening. She tore away from him, looking up desperately, out of breath and now completely naked for him. She thought of herself like a weak forest animal about to be preyed on by the big bad...wolf?

No, she was the tigress.

He paused as well, having just taken down his zipper and meeting her eyes for the first time since he started to kiss her. Only a few seconds passed before their speed button turned into slow motion as they surveyed the situation. Both knowing that everything was quickly changing and not even the Hogwarts Express hitting the house was going to stop them. They stared into each others eyes with panting breath, hungry for desire, and yearning to be touched intimately by the other. Though no words were exchanged, it was not long before Hermione was reaching for the waist of his jeans to help slide them down his slender hips.

Sirius never slowed down when worked up to this point, but it was with her that he did. Something inside of him wanted to appreciate this more, but that voice could not be heard. He had already determined that he wanted this witch and he wanted this witch in the very worst way: physically, mentally, emotionally and sexually. She held his heart if this was what falling in love was like and he wanted nothing more than to send her over into oblivion with him.

Even though she was taking the initiative at this point, Sirius was back on fast forward as he helped her hands along and stepped out of his jeans with the grace of an experienced gigolo. Now both naked and free to enjoy one another, foreplay was not necessary for Sirius as he kissed her hard and pressed her against the wall of the kitchen. He loved the small lusty sounds she made against his mouth, pulling his hair in such a natural fashion of desire.

His hands slid down the sides of her thighs and behind and, as she worked with him, hoisted her up so that she was now gripping his waist with her knees. She locked her ankles, wrapped her arms tight around his neck to hold on and used the wall as her back support. He slid a skilful hand between their two bodies, adjusted his now throbbing cock and found her center where he unceremoniously plunged himself deep inside of her moist walls.

"Yes, Sirius!" she yelled in a whisper, only because her voice had left her with the sudden impulse.

He grunted against her, thrusting his hips in an upward manner, using her body as a pleasure alter. He ran his teeth around her neck as he carefully restrained from hurting her. Never in his life had he felt so alive with a witch, never before did he feel the absolute desire to never let their act stop and never in his life had he ever wanted to ravish a witch so much, so long and so hard, than Hermione. She was like hot lava against him; her juices were so slick with him inside of her. They met together for each thrust, trying desperately to go deeper and harder. Finding a balanced rhythm, he thrust into her with furious passion, wanting her to feel his core as he felt hers.

"I couldn't stop thinking about you, Hermione," he said breathlessly. She clutched him tighter as he spoke her name as if it were a poem.

"Oh dear God, neither could I," she admitted, lost in the euphoric oblivion with him. She felt her muscles clenching around him, urging her to hold back just long enough to ride it out.

Hermione clung desperately to Sirius, her arms around his neck and her breath ragged and breathless as she said his name over and over to the heavens. She felt a tingling sensation rushing to every crevice and every muscle she knew about. Feeling him so hard and slick inside of her made her feel filled and complete. Everything felt right in that moment from the way the single candle emitted a weak romantic light into the small kitchen, assisted by the moonlight from outside, to the natural sounds of the house settling and creaking around them it was like everything was aligned just right for them.

Like being taken as a virgin for the first time again, but this time with feeling. No fumbling around trying to figure out the parts, but with sensual touches, though a little hasty with severe emotions driving the passion. So affectionate, so loving, so consuming.

Her mind was clouding with the damage control and aftermath of their experience, but love and submission was quickly taking precedence. Each thrust into her made her want him more and longer. Each thrust made it harder and harder to believe this was the younger Sirius she was with and not the older, more refined Sirius from her own time that she knew. The handsome man that wore velvet smoking jackets and a pocket watch. The one that was loving to Harry. The one with the stories, the one that was a legend and the one that had suffered a terrible fate. Not the gorgeous young man with the beautiful bare young chest free of tattoos and soft skin that was currently fucking her in McGonagall’s kitchen.

But it was him. All of it was, or rather it will be.

At the moment, Sirius was sending her over the edge, whispering into her ear how badly he was about to come, but wanted her to meet him. He held her rear tightly in his palms and he continued to thrust hard and rough into her tight little slick cunt like he was about to have the most exhilarating climax in his life. He whispered the Russian spell into her ear, making her practically purr like a kitten for their hard earned release.

The kitchen echoed of shallow breaths and hitching sounds that indicated their ultimate ride was raising its intensity, risking a sense of balance, but Sirius supported strength. He thrust harder, tempted to bring them to the floor, but unable to move. He would not sacrifice the sound of her pleasing moans in order to seek relief. Together they pushed; their bodies now gathering perspiration as they worked hard against each other. Her breasts bounced pleasantly against his chest as they were crushed and slick with desire.

Hermione felt her legs shaking as her body experienced orgasm after orgasm with him, testing her tolerance for ecstasy. Rush after rush, her breath hard to catch, she tightened her grip around him while digging her fingernails deep enough to almost pierce the skin. Her clit was swollen and throbbing as he penetrated her without mercy.

She pressed her head against the wall and moaned, “Sirius, yes!” Her voice drained out as she moaned rather obsessively, repeating his name over and over again. Her cries were getting louder and angrier. Never had she felt such a freedom. She had learned to relax her body to enjoy the sensation, but wondered about him as he didn't seem to slow down his pace. She felt like she was teetering on the brink and if he didn't stop as she rode the wave....after wave.....after- "Oh, fuck!"

Hearing her swear for him only fired him up more. With the remaining strength he could muster, he gave her everything he had. He tore at her lips like a crazed starving animal, unleashing the inner beast inside of him. He thrust hard and fast against her, wanting her to scream for him; making her absolutely nuts with euphoric bliss as he pushed himself to his unknown limit.

"Oh.....Oh....." her little voice yelped with guilty volume.

Sirius was about to go over, he held out as long as he could, wanting her to be absolutely spent against him and that's when he knew he needed her.

"Look at me," his voice strained.

She had to bring herself back to her bliss to hear him say it a second time before she registered his command. Breathless and unable to hang on much longer, she couldn't believe she was feeling this good. She forced herself to focus while holding onto him tightly. Her determination was equally animalistic, unleashing her own inner tigress, but allowed him to take the rest of the control to send them over together.

He bared his teeth as he focused on her, holding her tight, never letting her fall. This was about to be his strongest moment in these last few seconds. He was holding by the magic of a thin thread, ready to let himself go, ready to practically explode from the euphoric feeling of being inside the witch he wanted.

Finally, his sanity could no longer hold out and as he watched her throw her head back again, her hair falling over his hands and her neck exposed for his lips to devour, he let himself go. He poured into her with his hot warmth like lava boiling over in a volcano.

Hermione's adrenaline had soared, her eardrums were thumping hard and her damp hair was sticking to her face. The scent of her freshly washed body mixed with that of two that had just fucked themselves beyond recognition. She was indeed spent, exhausted and best of all, she was fulfilled. She liked this feeling, she enjoyed being breathless, naked and raw with him. It was like opening a locked box you never knew you had.

"Oh Merlin," she whispered, turning her death clutch into a more affectionate hug. She felt heavy and tired as she relaxed, panting.

Very carefully he set her down on her own two feet. The muscles in his thighs relishing the good burn from his strenuous exercise. The air between them was thin, their attraction hovering around them like two magnets of opposite ends wanting to draw them together.

He knew he’d pushed her limits by taking her like that. She was a witch that probably preferred slow and sensual over hasty and rough. But, by the look of her now disheveled appearance, her genuine affection and gentle petting of his neck, he had a feeling she rather enjoyed the surprise.

"Please tell me you're not leaving after that," she confirmed, sliding her hands over the tight slickness of his chest. Her eyes couldn't help but glance down between them to see his thick erect member standing stiff. She bit her lip at the very thought of him just inside of her.

"Not a chance," he breathed as he left a kiss against her forehead. There was no way that he wasn't doing that again in an hour or so. Perhaps they might even get the foreplay in, now.

Hermione ran her nose against him, enjoying his bareness, but most of all enjoying him. She listened to his heart beating strong and felt his arms cradling her close and not discarding her otherwise. Considering it was not their time, their bodies felt good together and they fit rather well.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

The Order of the Phoenix had just disbanded their meeting. Chairs were returned to their various spots about the hidden house of Emmeline Vance. The circular table that sat in the wide dining room shrunk down to its normal size as people removed themselves from alongside of it.

Just throwing on his coat, Sirius was carefully pulling his collar out. He fixed the sleeves at the wrists of the coat and waited until Remus and Peter were ready to leave with him. He waited by the door, eager to get along as his brain was filled with buzzing plans of the meeting and future plans of the night ahead.

"Come on, Moony! Wormtail?" he called out over his fellow Order members, as his friend lingered behind while speaking to Caradoc Dearborn, who was wearing a rather furry coat for this season.

"Good night, Sirius." Emmeline Vance had just walked over to bid him good night and it appeared that she had added a certain grace in her step so that she might otherwise attract him.

"Good night, Emmie. Be careful out there, all right?" He took her hand to his lips, but it was offered in only the most platonic way. He had no further interest in her beyond being a fellow Order member, and that alone served as too great a risk to get involved. It hadn't occurred to him yet, that it was the subconscious reasoning for his lack of recruitment of Hermione, to their cause.

"Mr. Black, a word?" McGonagall had just noticed Sirius getting ready to leave. He was one of the first to leave the circular table in the dining room. Her voice carried through the house, enough so that Remus had heard her.

"Excuse me, Emmie," he ended, releasing her hand. He was careful not to flirt with his eyes, since he had a terrible tendency for being misunderstood. He left her company with dignity and went to join his former professor alone along the shaded windows of the sitting room.

"Yes, Professor?"

"Sirius, really, it's Minerva. Remus and James can get it right, so why do you insist on being so stubborn?" She already appeared to be anxious about her intended vague conversation.

"When you leave Hogwarts, I'll drop the Professor. Or, until I become one."

For a moment there was an obvious flicker of worry, not ready for Sirius to return to Hogwarts any time soon and with a teaching title, no less. She feigned a smile and nodded, "Right, I look forward to that." Somehow Sirius only half believed her, but waited for her to continue. “Sorry, I'll make this quick as we don't have a lot of time and I've got a surprise test in the morning. Can you relay a message to my niece?"

"To Hermione?" he asked with a half smirk and raised eyebrow as he thought fondly on what they’d done in his former Professor’s kitchen.

"Yes, please," she smoothed down the brim of her hat as she fastened it on for her journey back to Hogwarts castle. "Tell her it's time to go home."

"To go home, Professor?" Sirius was unclear and ran a hand through his hair.

"Yes, home. She needs to return home. I don't think it's wise that she lingers so far away and her parents will be very glad to keep her close. Surely, you understand the risks?"

"I hate to disagree-"

"Then don't."

She was quick to end the conversation about Hermione. She tied the chin strap over her neck so that her hat wouldn't fall off when traveling and she ended the conversation on the matter right then and there. She brushed past him, but turned as she reached the door just when Sirius was sliding his hands into the pockets of his jeans.

"Mister Black, please don't linger over my request. Hermione will be safer at home and not locked away unable to contact anyone. She's far from where she belongs," she paused, wondering how much Sirius knew, if anything at all. "Make sure she goes home by tomorrow."

With a finalizing slam, McGonagall was out the door and probably halfway through the Apparation to the front gates of Hogwarts. As he imagined Filch standing there looking irritated and intimidated behind iron gates, Sirius continued to stare at the door, trying to rationalize what just happened.

REASON FOR LIFE Ch. 25 "Come to Realize"

2009-07-09T05:56:36Z

Title: Reason for Life
Ch. 25
Rating: NC17
Sirius/Hermione

Ch. 25

"Come to Realize"

The winds started to pick up outside of number twenty-four. The vine that hugged the wrought iron gate out front fluttered against the elements. More and more these days, the air started to thicken, leaving it moist and overall unsettling. Dark things were occurring behind closed doors, wizards masked themselves in hoods performing tasks, taking lives and building an army.

Ignorance was bliss these days to the ones that were afraid to fight and courage was built on knowledge from those not afraid to attain it. Meetings formed, alliances between neighbors strengthened, but fear weighed heavy on everyone's heart.

However, for the two individuals on the floor of number twenty-four that lay naked in front of the fire under a blanket, the world outside could not touch them.

"Yes love, I remembered," he calmed. He slowly pushed his tip to her entrance in tease.

Hermione looked away; her eyes with worry and her face with panic. She was quickly submerged in the memory of all that had already transpired between them. Their confrontation in the hallway must have been his breaking point, meaning if he remembered then, than he had always known. He knew when he came out of the Veil, he knew during the Holidays spent at Grimmauld Place and it must have been nearly traumatizing for him when he first saw her with his own human eyes in the shrieking shack.

Sirius always knew.

"Sweetheart, I've lost you somehow," young Sirius said, rubbing his fingers down her face. "I remembered the precaution, yes. I just happen to know it in Russian, too," he winked. His subtle prodding had stopped, but only momentarily.

Her eyes quickly met his as if she was searching for something. She must not have set the Obliviator spell when she left and that's why he remembered everything. Only, her error had caused him far more pain by torturing him with the memory of her, making their interludes haunt him for the rest of his life. He had remembered this moment, right now, lying in front of the fire, their bodies naked and warm against each other, about to commit the most forbidden rule of the Time Turner. How awful it must have felt to go through that, alone even, knowing that in his darkest times, this girl that he knew was not there for him. How painful it must have been to meet this gawky young girl that had no idea, no clue of what they were to become. To look at her with frustrated thoughts of anger for a teenage girl that had no idea about his past, or her future.

What if she was a reason for his brooding? Not entirely so, there was more to life than a broken heart, but what if she had added to the equation that he had to sit around and wait? Wait for what? For her to experience it? For him to finally be able to talk to her about it? For him to ask the questions why? And what about his time spent in Azkaban? Was he waiting for her to visit? Did he wonder, all those years, where she was? And then there was her birthday.

Her twenty-first birthday.

He had probably waited for her birthday for years. Waiting for the time when he could actually talk to her about it and what they had experienced together. Together they held a secret that was beyond comprehension and as she looked back into the young Sirius's eyes, she had to live it. It was all too much to contain.

Hermione kissed him before he could ask her anything, allowing him to dance his tongue romantically with hers. Her head was spinning over everything she was quickly realizing, that she wanted to live. She wanted to experience him, she wanted to feel him and for the love of life, she wanted him to enjoy it. She needed this; she wanted to feel what it was like to be ever so bad. Damage had been done and later it needed to be fixed, but for now, he emitted a sense of history that made him incredibly difficult for her to resist.

"Please, Sirius!" she begged, almost from another voice within.

He growled as he teased his teeth in a tender spot behind her ear, "There you are, love. Thought I'd lost you."

Like water breaking through a crumbling dam, Sirius thrust into Hermione with one fierce stroke. The two gasped over the initial sensation of the first time. His slick muscle wet with desire slid easily into her body, but stilled for a few extra moments to allow them to adjust.

Her nails immediately clenched into his skin as he took her breath away, but eased their tension as he slowly slid out before moving into her again and beginning a gentle rhythm. Each stroke he gave her, he pushed a little bit further in order to work them up to having him fill her completely to her natural wall.

Sirius enjoyed watching the way her face displayed her pleasure with the ease of his hips against her, that finally he was able to push himself into her fully, administering a good sized gasp from the pretty witch beneath him.

He leaned in to kiss her flushed lips and whisper against them, "You're so very tight to me."

She managed a slight grin for him, meeting his heavenly grey eyes that seemed to be studying every bit of her emotions. Watching him over her, feeling his hips against hers and loving the way his cock was engorged inside of her made her shudder. Out of the two partners she'd had, he was definitely the thickest.

Together they found a rhythm with heavy sighs and ragged breath, meeting each other with a long intense gaze, followed by hard kisses. He was gentle, but determined; soft, but controlled. He knew how to draw it out and then thrust two or three times to work them up. Not like a well-skilled master, more like a chef trying out new ingredients to see which ones worked the best.

"Oh God, Hermione...you're heaven. You feel so good, love," he whispered heavy in her ear. His hand slid down her thigh to her calf, where he raised her leg to bend up over his shoulder. He released a high pitched sound from her that was a mix of a groan and a whine that encouraged him deeper.

Hermione closed her eyes for a moment, dreaming about the state of bliss that was escaping with her mind. He was warm within her and she arched her body as she writhed around in delicious tortured agony. She admired his working body even more, practically glowing from the firelight.

As their pace quickened, panting breaths were their only form of communication aside from amorous touches. Both were enjoying each other's skills and both wanted to take as much as they could, but give as much as they took in order to achieve maximum climax.

"Oh, Sirius...Sirius, you're so..." she lost her train of thought as she opened her eyes upon him. His slender tanned body naked and bold appeared like perfection in her eyes. His bare chest was displayed nicely with toned muscles working a routine that made them flex. He pushed and hovered over her; her ankle on his shoulder as he bent her. "Yes, oh Sirius, yes...harder!"

He watched her writhe under him, reaching out desperately to touch his arms that were on either side of her. He smirked at the way she looked at him under low lids; she was getting thoroughly lost. A slight pang in his gut made him quicken his pace whenever he saw her face contort and wince with pleasure. Her bit lip was a sign that she enjoyed his harder thrusts more than the soft ones and the way she dug her fingernails into his arms encouraged him to not stop.

Her hair was splayed behind her on the rug like an underwater goddess and even though it was excruciatingly pleasurable to be inside of her, Sirius found it incredibly hard to tear his eyes away from her. Her breasts jiggled pleasantly with every movement he put into her, finding a rhythm of their own. Soft skin looked silky smooth in the firelight, making her all the more touchable to rough hands. She was like a dream all together and to finally be with her intimately, made him question the euphoric feelings he was developing for this witch. Venturing into territory that was unfamiliar, he found that being with her did help him deal with the darkness in the world around them, that he wondered if this was how James felt. He wondered if James and Lily had this intimate connection the way he believed he had with Hermione, that if so, it was no wonder they decided to get married so quickly and start a family. Life needed to be endured people say, and now he was starting to realize what all that entailed beyond taking chances against speed limits, muggle cops and taunting Death Eaters out in public. Life was an experience that needed to be cherished. Which is why, now, he had moved her leg back to the floor and was sitting back on his rear in order to pull her up to straddle him.

"I want you closer," he said, pulling her into his lap. He felt her ankles cross behind him. She obeyed and snaked her arms around his neck to continue kissing him as he started to thrust in their new position. The blanket once covering them now pooled around them.

They embraced tighter now, their legs and arms facing opposite as they were joined together. His arms rested around her waist as hers rested around his shoulders; her breasts to his neck as she sat high. He kissed her chin, her jaw and the sensitive under her earlobe as she tiled her head back to grant him access.

Her body felt extra responsive to his touches, wanting so much to just reciprocate it for the rest of her life. The way he made her feel was beyond whatever she'd experienced before, both body and mind. Her mental spirits were lifted; things just made sense when she was with him and she wagered it on the fact that it was because she was doing so many wrong things at that very moment. Being bad and being vulnerable to Sirius made her want to just fall away and make things right with him, but it couldn't be. She wasn't supposed to be there with him, feeling him touch her in intimate places and allow him to taste the small sweat beads forming at her brow. It was forbidden, it was a taboo and as she felt his thighs buck faster into her, she didn't care.

"You're so beautiful," he whispered quietly to her. He could see her thinking, see her mind wandering as her body enjoyed and it was a declaration she deserved at that very second. Her voice could only hitch. "Soft lips," he kissed her chaste, "silky skin," he kissed her shoulder, "and eyes that I seem to get lost in." He gave it all to her and she could only respond by moving a lock of hair that had fallen in his face.

His movements quickened again, turning their soft moment rougher as he felt her beginning to quiver. His rough hands tightened their grip on her waist and began to thrust a bit harder, believing they were capable of another good long severe ride. He flipped his hair out of his face, not wanting to miss the way she nibbled her lip or fluttered her eyelashes over her euphoria.

She said his name over and over, biting into his shoulder whenever it started to get too intense; his hands held her tightly to him, protecting her from the world around them. He could hear her hitching sounds, wanting to release, almost there and hanging on with him. Her hitching turned into mild whimpers and then began into little cries of pleasurable passion. Each sound turning him on more and more, encouraging him to push on longer.

They made love clutching onto each other like that for a few more minutes, before Hermione sought release and leaned backwards, her breasts pointed to the sky and away enough to allow Sirius to look down and see their connection. Her pretty trimmed pussy was so beautiful to him; he was practically salivating to taste her wet bud of delight. He kept one arm around her waist to keep her up, while his other was used as a pedestal for him to thrust harder into her. His defense was weakening more and more, but he was ready to outlast her. Already she had cringed and hitched as he felt her muscles contracting around him, indicating her own intense release, but he did not let up. He knew how to press a woman over the edge, right to the brink where they think they cannot handle the sensation because they're still discovering their limits. He knew that when she said, "oh my god, I need a breath," truly meant "push me over Sirius, don't stop and make me keep riding it out."

"Oh God, Sirius...I'm.....yes....please...Oh-oh!" she cried desperately, feeling his thumb flicking violently between their bodies as she tried to sit up and compose herself, but he kept her back. Her shoulders just barely touching the floor as her torso arched to his pleasure and her upper inner walls getting hit in a new spot she had never felt before.

Sirius felt his sac begin to tighten for the second time that night with her and knew that he was preparing another release, this time inside of her. Their contraceptive spell had been spoken, Hermione was currently writhing on the floor before him and he was just feeling the beginning of his own euphoric pull in his body. He watched every curve of her body, every bite of her lower lip and then their eyes met again, understanding that this was their breaking point. She reached out to him, pulling herself up so that she could be close to him again when he came. She hugged him close to her body as his hands pressed on her back tightly.

"Oh, fuck, Hermione-" he managed as he squeezed her tightly to him, his kiss to her deathly strong. He came with such intensity that he felt his entire body empty and all the energy inside of him escaped with a triumphant release.

Their bodies shuddered against each other, feeling the jolt of the muscles relaxing. Second by second their heartbeats began to subside as their breath was ragged in each others' ear. Small light kisses traced the others' cheek as they quietly relished the unity they shared.

"Well," Hermione whispered as he took in her disheveled appearance, "I'm not going to forget that."

Sirius growled against a kiss on her neck and whispered, "I told you."

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Hermione was curled around soft high thread count sheets. The fabric sheathed her body like a holy shroud, blessing her nude flesh in various comforted areas. She began to stir; a deep internal burning awoke her. It was a sensation. A euphoric sensation that only the deepest of dreams could control her physical actions as she reached her arms out to caress the soft sheets.

She felt her body being touched, caressed and most of all, pleasured. Her dreaming mind began to awaken, slowly bringing her back to reality and...and...

...soft licking?

...surely, he wasn't...

...Oh, gods, his tongue was...heaven!

Hermione forced her eyes open and the rest of her senses followed as she realized that her mental picture was coming true - naked and being pleasured. Sirius had blatantly disobeyed her and followed through on his threat as he lay between her legs, his arms wrapped under her thighs and his face hidden in her juncture.

"Oh...Sirius...that feels so good!" she moaned, alerting half the neighborhood of his talents.

Sirius did not respond, at least not verbally, as his tongue tasted her saltiness as teased. He tickled her glistening clit rather roughly, eliciting encouraging coos. She was perfect and pink, trimmed close so that he was able to properly admire her and direct his skills to the right pressure points without question. He reveled in the way she fought against him to close her legs, cutting him off, but he was much stronger than the slender witch. Years of chasing a werewolf around had assisted in his strength.

"Yes...yes...there...oh my-" she cried as she reached around for the surrounding pillows, gripping them for any kind of added support to aid her in her poor tolerance to his oral pleasure.

He dove again, nestling his rather stubby chin into her folds and using them as an added tickle tool to his chameleon-like tongue that flicked rather anxiously against her. He heard her pleas of rest, but they fell on deaf ears. Instead, he encouraged her fight and took delight in the tension and trembling in her legs.

She bucked up against him rather violently, but he met her movements by tightening his grip on her thighs as he pressed her pussy against his mouth with maddening hunger to taste her release. Like feeling the beginnings of a delicious savoring fruit, he endured. She cried out more, her arms reaching for the old wood of the headboard, but to no avail as he had moved her to the center of the King sized bed and with no bed posts in reach. Her hands dove into his hair, nails scraped his back and she finally vocalized her rushing release as she trembled in his arms like a frightened animal.

He tasted her sweetness, lapping her up generously to make her come even more. So soft on his mouth, he was hard again for her and he waited until she had at least a few minutes of gasping breath to let her muscles subside, before considering taking her again. He released her from his fighting grip; her limbs falling to the side like a broken limp doll.

"You are," she was breathing hard, "amazing." Her eyes closed, but she reached for his shoulder in a subtle thank you. Her chest rose and fell rapidly, trying to fill her lungs and let her muscles calm as she felt herself drifting off once again.

A minute was up and he leaned over her, kissing her cheek and sneaking closer to her mouth as if to reawaken her like Sleeping Beauty. She met him thankfully, wishing to show her appreciation, but he was already lifting her up and turning her over. His hands under her arms, he was helping her stand on her knees and hold onto the headboard.

Feeling boneless and weak of strength, positively satisfied, she found the will to do what he wanted. Her back was slightly bent, her rear just barely out before she felt him fingering around for her wet slit.

So very wet, Sirius stroked himself with her wetness before pushing himself up into her as he positioned himself behind her. His arms held her tightly against his chest as he proceeded to enter her and begin a slow pace.

She moaned her pleasure again, falling into him and holding onto the headboard for the suggested support. Her front inner walls welcomed his pressure, her body still tingling from his rapid pussy licking. It wasn't long before she felt another wave filling her, wanting to push over, but nearly numb. He was slow into her at first, but then quickly sped up his movements, causing her to bend over more. With each thrust, there was a unified moan while roaming hands discovered her freely. He held her breast full in his hand, squeezing her nipple when he felt her begin to recoil.

"Oh Gods, Hermione...you're so hot and wet," he practically whimpered against her back. Wet beads of lusty sweat blended together as he kissed her shoulder with each thrust he believed was a bit too violent.

"Harder, Sirius...harder," she gasped. The way he filled her was such a thrill, she did not want to see the end. She believed it all to be the perfect dream, until she felt his first fingers beginning to rub her clit rough on the most sensitive points.

After a few more minutes, each thrust of his got harder and harder to her being bent all the way and clinging to the wooden backboard as if it were a piece of driftwood in the ocean. She welcomed his grunts and animalistic sounds. His hand sunk into her hair, teasing a few times to pull, but was quickly told it was not favored by her. Instead, he held his fingers around the front of her neck as he thrust into her like a man without sanity.

Together they inspired, finding their limits and surpassing them beyond what they wanted, just because it was good. So good, neither wanted to release, but a man and a woman could only hold out so long before they both had to regenerate for the third game of the night.

They came hard. Harder than before and both were absolutely spent. The glow radiated off both of them and with a tug, Sirius pulled Hermione off the backboard to fall back with him onto the bed as they panted their rest.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Hermione stirred under the soft covers in a room only as bright as the overcast sky outside. Clouds came in, not quite releasing their fill, but leaving a decent shade to the surrounding neighborhood of number twenty-four. Her arms stretched out across the bed instinctively, testing her space and feeling about. Her sneaking fingers met the edge of the bed on one side and a vacant pillow on the other. Her mind remembered and her eyes opened to her surroundings.

Sirius’s bed.

She felt her muscles aching in certain areas. Both relaxed and rather satisfied for the moment. The weight of what had transpired was slowly flooding her. Painful guilt did not feel as bad as anticipated, but somewhere down the line it was apparent she did not cast the Obliviator spell before she left him. Sirius seemed to remember traces and bits from their time together, perhaps even everything.

Hermione stared at the ceiling of his bedroom, noticing the intricate detail of the hanging lanterns from overhead. Rich money decorated his room with expensive furniture that she had not noticed when being seduced up the stairs for the continuation of their romp. She absorbed the energy surrounding her, his smell intoxicated her and without realizing it, tears began to form at the corners of her eyes before streaking down the sides of her face.

She sighed quietly, not quite crying but sad all the same. He had remembered her, her entire life that she knew him growing up, he knew her. He knew what she was capable of, how she kissed, what she felt and what made her tear at his naked flesh more than anything...and she was just thirteen when they first met. She pitied him, the older Sirius, the Sirius from her own time, over all the things he had missed out on. She could only imagine his disappointment when meeting her in the shrieking shack and discovering her secret trip, or the summer they spent together cleaning out Grimmauld Place. How many times did he have to look away knowing that she was to become the woman he knew? Did he learn to secretly resent her? Did he ever wonder why? Did he ever think on it as deeply as she was now?

The sound and smell of sizzling bacon was permeating the house. Not the smell, but the jolly whistling was what brought Hermione down the stairs with slow careful steps as she neared the bottom, in hopes of poking her head around the wall to sneak a peek at Sirius.

His lips were puckered to follow their sound and his hair was messy and shaggy around his bare shoulders. He wore only a pair of thin linen pants low on his hips. Barefoot and shirtless, he flipped pancakes into the air with one hand on the pan while the other hand was poised with his wand making sure the doughy flats went back into the pan. The guilty bacon sizzled on the furthest burner.

“I took the liberty of using your shower,” Hermione said, coming into the kitchen. Her hair was still damp.

Tucking his wand in his pants pocket, he turned and smirked, “I’m sorry. I didn’t recognize you with clothes on.” Hermione licked her lips and looked down at the floor slightly embarrassed. “But then, that’s just how I intend on seeing you.”

He slid his finger under her chin and raised her face to his. Sliding his hand to her cheek, he kissed her good morning a few dozen times. The last one lingered on long enough Hermione had to remind him of his pancakes still browning.

“Oh! You’re right,” he said scrambling away, leaving Hermione standing there empty handed as he rushed back over to the stove. She watched as he lifted the pan and tossed the pancakes onto a waiting plate and charmed two strips of bacon to follow. “Madam, your breakfast is ready.”

They dined quietly together, glancing out the window occasionally and watching the clouds roll in rather violently now. It drew Sirius’s attention, making him ponder in thought as his mind began to work and his brow furrowed. An opened rolled parchment, probably delivered by an owl, lay on the counter.

“So much is happening out there,” he said under his breath with a sigh. “But, I meant what I said last night.”

Hermione quietly sipped her hot tea and waited for him to continue.

He looked away from the window and held his fork poised to take a bite of pancake that teetered on the end, “You do help me remember what I’m fighting for.”

For a moment, her heart sank. The little whisper of guilt started to flutter forward, "Sirius, I-”

“Aside from my friends, no one has helped me realize that before. Even my family doesn’t matter that much to me, because their beliefs are so outlandish and prejudice that I truly have learned to hate them.” He spoke so freely; his fork scraped along his plate as he ate and talked. “It’s because of people like them that make it hard to live these days. So much so, that we can’t even go out without worrying.”

Hermione’s mind was turning a thousand times a second, wanting so badly to stop this whirlwind now. Though he spoke to her about dark times, times she knew too well complete with his own cousin torturing her at the Malfoy estate, and it all was becoming too clear. However, though he discussed it all in seriousness, she could not for the life of her stop staring at him. Such beautiful tanned skin, deep hypnotic eyes and the sharp well defined features of a long aristocratic bloodline. He was royalty, no matter how much he tried to denounce it and as he spoke, the conclusion rang loud in her mind that he was beautiful both inside and out.

“...so, I won’t be able to stay home today.”

“I’m sorry, what?” Hermione had lost herself briefly daydreaming; she hadn’t heard what he had said to her.

“I said, I’ve got some business to do, so I won’t be able to stay shacked up with you today,” he winked. He noticed her staring at him. “I’ll make sure you get home safe and then I’ll see you tonight, that all right?”

At first, Hermione wanted to nip this in the bud and not do anything with him again, that would render her powerless like the night before, no matter how pleasurable it was. Though she believed she went through the actions for generous reasons, there was no doubt that deep down being with him made it a selfish sacrifice. After all, he was becoming harder to resist.

“Fine,” she nodded, not inquiring about his business. She only assumed it was related to the Order and for that, she wouldn’t ask. She must not interrupt his course any more than she had.

Sirius drove her home on the back of his motorcycle. Her body was pressed tight against him and her arms held on firmly. He drove faster than usual that afternoon, having felt a strong premonition that things were getting more and more heated. Not between them, but beyond them and around them. She was muggleborn, she was in his life and for any of his family to believe he had any kind of soft spot for her put her at much greater risk. He needed her safe and secure and behind safe walls. He had no doubt that McGonagall had secured these measures.

The familiar street came into view and Sirius cruised along the row of little houses and right into the front garden. He cut the engine as she swung her leg off, reaching into his bottomless saddlebag for her own backpack. Walking to her door, neither one said a word, for they made this feel like it was second nature.

"Get your keys out, love," Sirius instructed, not letting her out of his sight so that he knew she was safe inside.

Blindly, she reached around in her bag looking for her keys. Her fingertips grazed the chain of her Time Turner that lay at the bottom of her bag; a dull reminder that time was running out for them.

"Please be careful today, Sirius," she said looking upon him. She all of a sudden felt the urge to hug him close, almost motherly, wishing him to be safe.

"I'll be fine, but do me a favor and just stay in today. Don't go anywhere, don't go to the bookstore, just stay in." There was a sense of promise in his voice and overall concern. He sounded like he wasn't quite saying what he was feeling, but only that he was uncertain of the events about to transpire in the near future.

"Please don't make me promise you that, I've got things to do myself-"

"Please, Hermione. I don't want to have to worry today, so please promise me that you'll stay in your Aunt's house today? Send owls, read books, watch muggle TV, just don't leave."

Finally, she let out an unceremonious sigh, "All right. But, pray that I've got ink for my quills in there."

"Thank you," he nodded, relieved that she would do what he requested.

A soft finger slid down her cheek and with a second to think, he kissed her to say good-bye and turned on his heel to leave. Dropping her eyes, she shoved her shoulder against the door and stepped through, not wanting to see him leave. Hear him she would, but every time she saw him ride off on his motorcycle was a reminder of one more day closer to his condemned time.

Sirius tore himself away as well, wishing that he could stay with her that day. His heart couldn't help but beat a little quicker when he'd think of her, or how he added an extra skip in his step on the way back to his motorcycle. But, as he reached for his keys in his pockets, he was left feeling unsatisfied and turned directly around and back towards the front door.

"Hermione," he called, pushing open the door just as it reached it catch to close. His boots clicked hard on the wooden floor as he took two steps in, reached out just to see her turning around and pulled her in for a much needed kiss that would meet his momentary needs.

The door slammed shut with a fierce kick from his boot. The sound echoed loudly in the foyer where they stood.

She was barely given a second before she felt his familiar strong hands grab her waist and tug her towards him so that he could kiss her properly. Releasing a small murmur at first, his touch was soothing again and she melted against him with the willpower of peanut butter to a jelly sandwich.

It was so easy kissing Sirius, that within seconds she forgot everything that was surrounding them and she started to imagine it being the older more mature Sirius with his soft velvet threads, laugh lines around his eyes and the aura of a man with stories holding her. Her eyes fell shut, almost into a deep dream state and her hands slid easily around his neck. Together their bodies met, swaying slightly, getting lost in their own oblivion.

As his lips slid over hers with ease, his strong hands held her close to protect her. Her mind went traveling, budding along into the territory she was getting too close to. Deep admiration and obvious affection for this man was no longer denied, for she had felt things with him she never thought her body could feel and for that...she was falling. Or had she already fallen? Could it be that she was in love with him, just by sealing this kiss? Or was it what he did to her the night before that confirmed it? Had he seduced her to believe this, or was she already convinced that he merely lit the fuse to her inevitable explosion.

Whatever it was, it was good. It was heartfelt and he was being received by her with open arms and an open heart.

But what about when she went home? Could they continue where they left off? Would he even have her? She was twenty-one and her Sirius was thirty-seven. Was that too much for him to handle, because for her she would be content. Sirius was the kind of man she needed: mature, intelligent, street smart and most of all responsible.

Well, at least he's intelligent and street smart.

Hermione's mind paused and physically, she pulled away from their kiss, hoping to see his face. Gorgeous grey eyes looked back at her, full of expression and passion, it was a shame she hadn't realized this sooner. He had the potential of being an incredibly loving man, if given the chance.

His hold was deathly tight and he whispered, "Thank you for last night, love. It was so intense." He just wanted to hug her, hold her and keep her to him that it surprised even him over this unnatural reaction.

Her cheek warmed, but she was silent to hear any and all that he was saying. She would have done anything at that point, just to hear him say her name in his voice that was so comforting it was like finally finding your way home after a long journey. She laid her head down to listen to the steady beat of his heart; her eyes falling closed to imagine another moment between them.

"I really don't think I want you to go," she whispered, mostly to hear herself say it. The realization was getting deeper and deeper.

"I'll come back to you tonight," he whispered into her ear as he left small feather-like kisses along her temple. "Just please, stay inside."

Hermione murmured something of an answer that was satisfying enough, but was slightly unwilling to let him go. These newfound feelings for him were both comforting and complex. Torn deep inside, there wasn't anything she wanted more in that minute than to feel him close against her, whispering things in her ear and asking her if she liked what he was doing to her. The way he spoke, the way he walked, the way he held his chin high and proud and defiant made her just yearn for him more and at the same time, send a sinking feeling into her gut that this was all wrong.

All of it was wrong.

REASON FOR LIFE Ch. 24 "The Ripple"

2009-06-23T05:05:44Z

TITLE: Reason for Life
Ch. 24
Rating: NC17
Sirius/Hermione - time turner fic

Ch. 24

"The Ripple"

Sirius and Hermione Apparated outside the front door of number twenty-four. Shielded by the tall shrubbery, it acted like a short fortress and stirred a sense of relief over both of them. Sirius went forward and raised his wand, having never put it back into his pocket since they were wrangled up like cattle back at the concert, and whispered the incantation to unlock the door. He stood back and quickly ushered Hermione inside, watching the swirling black fog float listlessly over the bushes like a strong current in a river.

Once inside the house, Hermione kicked off her shoes in the front foyer, letting them clunk on the wood floor like two thin books. She curled her toes gratefully, enjoying the freedom of no longer being restrained by the ridiculous fashion shackles.

As she heard Sirius locking the door behind them, she turned around, "Sirius, how many in there were Death Eaters?"

"I don't know," he said brushing passed her and walking down the narrow hallway to the kitchen.

He appeared to be upset and so she followed him closely down the hall; his boots slamming down hard on the wooden floor with each step that he took. His shoulders were rolled back, stiff, and he went right to his bar to take out a half filled bottle of Fire whisky. He slammed down two glasses in front of him, nearly shattering them on the counter, and filled a proper shot in each one.

He glanced over at Hermione and pushed one over to her as he lifted his to his lips and knocked it back. The wince on his face reflected the harshness of the liquor he favored.

Hermione furrowed her brow and shook her head, "No, thank you. I'd rather have tea right now." She was disappointed over witnessing his immediate need for alcohol in tense situations.

Nodding, he left her shot glass alone and turned to start her request. He lifted the kettle off of the stove, filled it with water and set it back on the stove for it to heat. All the while he seemed to be banging and making more noises than necessary as he prepared, making Hermione a little on edge. His back still appeared quite stiff, he barely spoke and now he was taking his anger out on a metal tea kettle etched with a black design in its intricate handle.

"Have I done something wrong, Sirius?" Hermione asked, finding a quiet voice not to interrupt his frustrated tea making.

Like hitting a slow motion button, the sound of her voice made him realize what he probably looked like. Though frustrated, his behavior was not becoming in her eyes and he needed to slow down. He took a moment to compose himself and laid his hands flat on the counter. His shoulders hunched and with a slow shake of his head he answered, "No."

Hermione watched and waited, twisting her fingers in front of her nervously, unsure of his sanity.

Slowly, he turned around to face her and began to close the distance between them as he reached for her hands. "Not at all. I'm mad at myself, really." She looked up at him, waiting for further explanation. "I've just been so distracted lately, pleasantly distracted, that I've forgotten to look around. People I know are dying and I'm reading about it in the Daily Prophet, friends of mine have gone missing while shopping in Diagon Alley and it's overlooked, James is talking about going into hiding and that means everything is going to change. I've just been so blinded lately that I never even thought of the true repercussions of exposing you tonight."

Hermione felt his hands tighten around hers and she looked away for a moment, feeling her skin warm for being a distraction to him.

"I should be out there fighting, I should be out there finding those that hurt the ones I know, but yet I'm finding out more and more that ignorance is bliss. I'm not afraid to die, but I am afraid of forgetting what I'm fighting for." His voice was no longer angry, but it did waver on the brink of confession. "You make all the darkness go away, Hermione. You make me feel like there isn't a war out there and that each day might be our last."

Hermione was deeply moved, torn even, rendering her speechless. His eyes sparkled when he spoke to her, his guard down, his soul exposed and she wondered if anyone else, other than the Marauders, had ever seen this side of him. A small part of her wondered if any other women he'd kissed had ever been so lucky to see this side of him.

His eyes lured her in like a moth to a flame. His midnight locks framed his face like a male model coming off the runway, making her stomach do flip flops as her lips parted to exhale the pent up arousal. His cheekbones were so well defined by the low lit candles he had ignited when they came in and just when she was going to say something, anything, the whistle blew on the kettle.

With a wink, he pulled away and started to fix the tea.

Somewhat relieved, the intensity between them had almost been too much for her to handle at that moment for she felt her self control quickly slipping away. With quiet bated breath, she looked away biting her lip. Her insides fluttered madder than a wild canary in a very small cage and just like that, she was more aware of her surroundings than she had ever been. The dark night beyond the drawn curtains, the time in which she stood, the danger outside, the risk of being alive in this decade and finally being acutely aware of...him.

The sound of him tinkering in front of her in the kitchen, doing normal things, living a normal life and fighting a losing battle against his own kind. His days, his nights, his joys were numbered and as she stood there in the same large warm room with him, she could do nothing to change his destiny. The only thing she could do was make it better for him, make him enjoy life and maybe, just maybe, she could know what something real and true felt like.

She mustered the strength from deep within and pushed herself off the counter, quietly stepping close behind him and laying a hand gently on this back. He gave her a side glance, offering a grin. The flat of her hand ran up his back and along his shoulder, feeling his muscles move under her palm as he moved to prepare their tea. Her fingers went into his soft hair, curling around layered locks.

"Sirius," she whispered, watching his profile finally turn to face her.

As he leaned in, following the slight pull of her hand around his neck, Sirius saw it immediately. He saw the overwhelming desire in her face, felt it in her fingers, and the energy radiating from her was stronger than a magnetic pull. He kissed her the way she wanted and turned his entire body around to envelop his arms around her, pulling her against him so that there was not a thread of space between them.

His hands rubbed down her back, feeling the thin material over her skin protecting her from investigating fingers. He smoothed over her entire body as he kissed her deeply, feeling her frame pressing against his to make them one. He kissed her cheek, her ear, her jaw and down around behind her neck where her brown curls hid her secret spots. He loved the way her entire body sighed against his as he freely moved over her, falling more and more into him, submitting herself to his every will.

"Tell me you'll stay with me tonight," he whispered into her ear. He was already sliding calloused hands rough from motorcycle riding up under her tank top, already eager to keep as little clothing on her as possible.

There was a definite ringing in her ears that made her jaw stiffen, but she was easily convinced. "As long as you..." she faded, letting her head fall back from the pleasure of his massaging lips over her collarbone.

"As long as I what?" he asked between slow drawn out kisses over various areas of her body. "As long as I make you feel pleasure? As long as I promise to worship every part of your body?"

"Oh, Sirius," she breathed, feeling his fingers sliding her tank top up and over her head. Her chocolate brown curls bounced full around her shoulders as she was beginning to be freed. Her thoughts went to her Time Turner and how glad she was that she had taken it off before the concert.

He pulled his own shirt up over his head, displaying his lean slender body that left her practically panting to touch his naked skin. Timid, nearly shaking hands touched his bare skin, lightly scratching her nails along him in a desiring manner.

Sirius scooped her up close again, loving the way she appeared so captivated by his bareness. His voice dropped lower, "As long as I make love to you...all night long?"

Hermione felt her ears burning and the muscles at her juncture squeezed their arousal. Fear and desire mixed within her like a new potion. Suddenly, she was more aware of his hands and how they had already slid her skirt over her hips and onto the floor, leaving her to step out of it.

Her arms snaked around his neck, wishing to be closer. Feeling his hard half naked body rubbing up against her was as hot as the sun's rays on a summer day. Sirius pushed her back so that she was wedged between him and the island counter in his kitchen.

"As long as you..." she started again, responding to his fierce kisses. She was starving for him and she didn't want to stop.

"Go on," he whispered encouragingly. His fingers were already sliding under the waistband of her leggings.

"As long as you make me never forget you!" she sighed, clawing at him ravishingly.

With a deep growl he nipped her neck and slid his hands into her leggings peeling them down over her thighs and calves. Once stripped, he came up and lifted her up onto the counter behind her. He parted her legs to step in between and allowed himself drink in the half naked witch like a delicious meal he wanted to devour. His coarse hands ran along the outside of her thighs, committing her every curve to memory.

Sirius took a step back as his hands met the tips of her toes to lift her foot to his face, "Don't worry love," he left two kisses on the sole of her foot, "You won't."

Hermione curled her legs in, her insecurity reminding her that she was sitting on his kitchen counter in her underwear and being stared at by a handsome wizard who still stood to be the man she had known since she was thirteen. She took in every muscle, every hair on his arm, each inch of his untattooed chest, the black necklace he wore around his neck, the way the tips of his choppy cut hair met his shoulders and the way his eyelids were half closed as his lips touched the bottom of each foot. She could already feel a slight wetness between her legs that made her tighten her knees together.

Sirius grinned, his eyes roaming over her body as he mentally prepared to taste every inch of her, "You are positively delectable." He parted her legs again, fitting himself between them. Closing his eyes, he took in her scent using all of his senses together, smelling her arousal. He ran a single finger down her bare arm, causing her to shiver with anticipation.

Hermione's lower lip quivered and she bit it to hide her eagerness. His eyes were low, like a lion onto its prey.

His strong hands slid around her rib cage and behind her to unfasten her bra as he kissed her delicately over her shoulder, sliding the straps down her arms. Her breasts were perked ready and eager and as if they were laced with honey, he generously lapped each nipple with sincere focus.

Hermione's breath hitched as she threw her head back. Almost violently, she shoved her hand into his hair and curled her fingers into his locks. His touch was like a hot rush of lava through her blood forcing her to arch her chest against him so that he would nip, bite and suckle more.

Sirius obeyed and cherished her breasts sliding against his cheek, her nipples over his tongue, and the way they filled his hands as he kneaded them gently. Her smell was intoxicating and as he pressed his stomach close between her legs, he could feel her damp panties.

His own arousal was pressing against his leg, confined behind fitting leather. He needed to move this along or at least get them both naked quickly. In one move, he wrapped Hermione's legs around his waist, lifted her up off the counter and carried her out of the kitchen towards the living room by the fireplace. He went down to his knees, his hands still holding her rear, and laid her gently onto a soft furry rug. He blanketed her body with his own, leaving soft kisses behind before he sat up and reached for the buttons on his own pants.

Hermione sat up, stopping his hands, "Wait. Let me."

His hand cradled her cheek before stealing a rather heavy kiss. They changed positions for him to lie on his back instead and she mimicked his movements as she laid her slender body over his.

She admired the way his midnight black hair laid around his head, contrasting to the light colored fur rug. Very gently, she kissed him down his neck, over his nipple and across his flat belly, rendering him powerless beneath her. She noticed his chest rising and falling at a new staggered pace as he anticipated her next move.

She backed herself down his body, like a tigress in reverse, until her head was even to his waist. She sat back on her heels and ran her hands over his stomach until her fingers reached the unfastened button of his pants. Very slowly, and painfully, she pulled down his zipper; each released set of teeth acting like a wall slowly breaking down. Her own breathing was getting difficult, anticipating the release of something very very forbidden. She could see with the way the leather was pulled against his leg that he was rather tightly restrained; she sensed his eagerness to be freed.

As she pulled the zipper to its ending, she caught a glimpse of his happy trail; a dark thin forest that was hiding his illicit member. Her hands gripped his thighs, cherishing the feel of the hide and the way his legs tensed at her tease. She leaned over him, drawing out the inevitable even longer.

Sirius reached for her, but she was quick to play and pull away. She clucked her tongue and shook her head, letting her brown curls tickle his chest. Meeting his smile, she leaned back on her heels to shimmy herself down by his waist. Her nimble fingers gripped his pants and slowly tugged them down; averting her eyes should she catch a sneak peek. He lifted his hips to assist her in his undressing.

Once she cleared his pants away, she turned her head slowly, starting at his feet, then up his curved calves, over his knees and then she stopped. Her lips parted as she saw him, every bit of him, standing tall and proud for her. Erect like a monument, his cock stood perpendicular to his flat stomach. She could only stare at his vulnerability, never knowing what was kept in those cool wool pants he wore around Grimmauld Place.

"He likes you," Sirius whispered slow and drawn out. He had propped himself up on his elbows to watch her look at him.

She jolted her head up to see him watching her. The sound of his voice had reminded her of who he was and who he was to her. He lay there open to her, wanting her to look at him and wanting her to do with him what she wished.

How could she not?

Hermione did not listen to reason and curved her smile into a mischievous one of her own. She curled a strand of her hair, acting very coy, and welcomed the scandal they were about to become. After all, he was a bit of a fantasy lying there before her on the white fur rug. Some witches would have given their right arm to be in her position and for that, she bit her lip to move forward.

His eyes were on her like a gambler, waiting for the dealer to offer him a new hand. With soft hands, she parted his legs so she could lie flat on her belly to position herself directly before him. He could watch her if he wanted, but her focus was not to be swayed. She directed her attention back on him, not just on him, but on him.

He remained propped up. With a casual flip, his hair was out of his eyes and behind his shoulders, clearing his view. A satisfied stir began to creep into his lower muscles as he watched her shy away from meeting his eyes. It was apparent that they were about to embark upon some very dirty guilty pleasures. Seeing a woman bowing between his legs was always a subtle form of empowerment. A trophy of truth that he had been able to charm the witches into pleasing him and in return, allowing him to practice his skills as a man.

However, seeing her laying flat on her stomach, her pretty little rear moving about on occasion, was a different feeling. Though her soft skin was hidden by curtains of brown curls falling before her shoulders and her luscious nipples had already been upon his lips, she did not wield that power for him. Instead, she left him wanting, hungry and forlorn. His time with her was undetermined; he still had not swayed her to not go back to America. The deserted island was on the tip of his mind, she dressed in...well, about the same as she was now, staying with him as he lived another life.

All of this had passed through his mind like a silent film and then all of a sudden, the lights went out! A sensation went into his body, forcing him to knock his head back, nearly losing his balance on his elbows and releasing a low and husky sigh.

"Dear God, Hermione!" he wailed gritty. Pleasure had caught him a little unexpectedly.

Her hand had finally taken up around his rock hard cock and wrapped her fingers around the base, almost meeting at the tips. It burned a good burn, like Icy Hot when it met your skin at first contact. He thought of more, thought of movement, as long as she didn't stop slowly, ever so painfully slowly, stroking him up and down.

His silky skin just barely fit into the palm of her hand. She held him firmly, her hand easing tighter and tighter as she moved. It did not take long to see how easy it was for her to please him, and she wanted nothing more than to hear her name pass over his lips in the manner he demonstrated. She felt him tense again, her second hand splayed over his firm stomach, mesmerized by the natural creases of vigorous workouts made by another exercise. He was thick, soft, perfect and seeing him shudder every inch that she moved made her head swim.

She watched him lay back, finally submitting to the lack of strength to stay on his elbows. His fine chest rose and fell at a shallow pace; his arms restless with a hand through his own hair. Over and over again, she heard the sound of his voice through a sigh, not really coherent to the English language.

Hermione allowed herself a few more minutes of enjoying the soft texture of his penis and the way it slid smoothly in her hand. The intimate act drew her to watch his face and the way he was otherwise lost in a mindless trip of his own ecstasy, thanking her mentally for brining him to that level that evening. Such a tortured soul to embark upon a hated and undeserved life. Sharp jaw and handsome rich looks, she could almost not see the frightening man he was to become. A man that loved to tickle a special baby would never know how much Harry pined for the father-figure he was. His firm and fit body would become weak and malnourished. His silky strands would become mangy and long. The life would leave his eyes and his soul would be threatened with an unwanted kiss.

She wanted to forget about his fate.

Her eyes closed as she leaned closer; her sad memories fading away as she slowly licked the tip of his shaft. A slow generous lap from the top down to his shaft, slithering and leaving a moist trail behind. She heard, and felt, a gratifying sigh from him and moments later, a gentle hand reached out to touch her cheek.

Their eyes met like two strangers meeting in the darkness as he raised his head high enough to see her giving him pleasure. Curtains of tendrils remained their own personal veils, hiding the mental stimulation this was conjuring between them. Blocked by a wall, she found it hard to admit she was falling in love with him. Falling so quickly, that she did not pause to think about any of the repercussions of her irresponsibility. The tension was too thick, if you cut it, it'd only fill up quickly again like sand in a hole.

The dark vixen was showing a new side to him and she parted her lips to meet his tip again, sliding him gently into her mouth, sheathing him with her oral cave. He knocked his head back again, his fingers nearly pulling her hair with anticipation. The melting pleasure bringing him to a new place that was no longer seedy and disposable, but gracious and savoring. She wasn't doing this because he wanted her to, she was doing it because she wanted to do it.

Top to bottom, her tongue pressed hard against his cock as she lathered him in her mouth. She closed her lips around him, sucking at the tip and then plunging deep into her throat, feeling the vibrations from his growls within. They were no longer silent lovers, but anxious and climatic. Each move she made on him brought them closer to the inevitable finale. Each lather, each lap, brought them closer to a tainted future. Each rub of her tongue against his shaft as she stroked him hand to mouth brought them closer to memory charms.

She sucked him hard, mechanically, and never with as much determination to make a man come. She'd had her experiences, the good and the bad, but this was a milestone in her life. Feeling enjoyed, appreciated and most of all very very special was the root of all goodness behind her striving goal.

Her tongue could feel it, the salty taste at the tip, the kind that would glisten in her own saliva. A rich, thin stream that was far from what was probably working up in him as she gently kneaded his sack in her free hand to ensure his maximum pleasure.

"Oh, fuck...Hermione...don't stop, angel," he breathed. His head thrashed around as his entire body jolted its battle within. His black hair fell in his face as she panted and felt his end near. "Fuck...harder...yes!"

His requests were met with exceeding results. His hips bucked against her, taking sweet liberties to allow him a good fuck to her mouth without domination and finally calling out to the heavens how good he felt. His growl was hoarse when he came into her mouth with fair warning for her to retreat. To his surprise, she took every inch and every drop as he pumped out his release, leaving a shining sheen over her rose colored lips.

Sirius's muscles relaxed, his knees released, his rear no longer clenched and if he were standing up he would have collapsed into the weak position he rested in. He panted heavy and satisfied, like after running for squirrels in the forest with Prongs, Wormtail and Moony. His hand was still tangled in her hair and he lightly scratched his appreciation.

Hermione pulled away to wipe the corners of her mouth with her thumb before resting her cheek against his thigh like an angelic cherub. Her eyes fell closed as she felt him settle down, but was not prepared for him to grab her up.

In a swift move, he rolled her over, his body half draped along hers and staking his claim on her lips like an animal in dire need of nourishment. He could taste the lingering remnants of himself on her lips, savoring the intimate connection they were sealing. She had brought him over, experienced his weakness and given him pleasure. He could not get enough of her.

"I want you," he panted between hot fevered kisses. "I want to taste you." He snuck an impatient hand down to the waistband of the panties she still wore. His fingers slipped over her abdomen and passed over her mound. "You're smooth? I've never had a woman so...trimmed." He dipped a single finger between her slick lips, eliciting an insecure sigh. "Shh, my love," he comforted. She could barely feel her own panties being slid over her hips in such a slow manner, that it was almost like opening a special present you had saved for last.

The harsh reality of them together was weighing heavy on her. It was both a blessing and burden to have, because if he didn't remember her in their future together, than what was the good of enjoying it now? Selfishness. Pure, unadulterated selfishness. She wanted nothing more than to be naked with him there on the rug that was soft against her naked skin. A sudden chill covered where he didn't and she shivered under him.

His face of seduction with dark eyes and hungering lips melted into concern and a furrowed brow. He leaned over her, reaching for his leather pants that lay nearby, and pulled his wand from the pocket. He aimed the tip towards the fireplace igniting it, and then summoned a blanket off the couch to cover them.

"Now, where was I?" he asked with a cool low voice. He was already pulling the blanket up and was about to slither down her body, when she stopped him.

"Sirius, please," she gripped his shoulders as they squared.

As much as she hated to take him away from the deliciously naughty act he was about to perform, she still couldn't muster up the courage to let him do it. Her past intimacies never enjoyed doing the oral act on her, and the first time she had endured it, she was too young to enjoy it. So, for Sirius to do it was probably too much for her to handle right now....even if she was torturing herself with the tease. Hygiene won her over.

"Oh, don't hold out on me, love," he whispered into her ear, his lips leaving small feather kisses along the side of her cheek. "I can make you howl to the moon and sing to the stars."

"I'm sure you could, but I just...we just got home and the concert was hot..." she was so nervous to tell him the real truth, but still she wasn't completely lying.

He practically purred in her ear as he said, "I love that you called this home. Besides, I rather like the salty taste. It's even more of a treat when I know I've worked you up."

"Please, Sirius?" she whispered lightly. He wouldn't fight her on it, he would hold out a bit longer.

"Fine," he sighed, sliding his tongue between her parted lips before kissing her. He dipped a finger between her folds again, making her squirm pleasantly under him as he trailed her wetness up between her breasts and to his mouth. "Then I'll have to wait a little longer," he said with a wink. "Like when you're sleeping."

Seeing his wet fingers in front of her made her stare in awe of him and how he was able to stimulate her to sheer insanity. She said no, but he found a way to get what he wanted, even if it was just a teasing taste. His strong hand rubbed over her stomach, pinching her skin with animalistic restraint, and sliding between her breasts. He rolled her nipple between his thumb and his forefinger, pinching just enough to provoke a sound from her. Pretty soon his mouth followed his fingers, gently sliding her nipple over his tongue and then nipping just enough to make her writhe against him.

"You give me no choice," he said as he slid a knee over her thighs. The rest of his body followed and he slid his hands down to her wrists where he raised them up to pin her down. She writhed under him eagerly, tossing her head from side to side as he tried to kiss her, but she evaded his lips playfully. "I have to take you, now."

Hermione couldn't move her wrists, but she didn't care. His game was what she wanted, it helped her not back out. She needed him to take her like this, needed him to hold her down and not let her back out when she was just on the brink of feeling what it was like to truly be filled. A crush when she was a little girl had developed into a fascination and almost an obsession once she set her mind to her work. They played against each other in the past, his future, but never quite like this. Never to the point where being so close inflamed her beyond her known desires.

His mouth was so close, but then he could not kiss her. She had fought him, weakly yes, but still she showed incredible restraint. The look in his eye was gentle, yet seductive. He radiated the passion one only reads about in dirty fictions, never truly knowing what it was like to be thrilled and enjoyed, never fully knowing what it was like to throw your arms out into the air and spin and spin and spin, not knowing if you were about to fall. He held her wrists tighter, whispering things into her ear she could not understand, until she realized he was speaking to her in Russian again. His knee parted her legs and he positioned himself at her entrance; his hard shaft barely touching.

Her eyes fell closed, relishing the feeling of his weight pressed against her. She was pinned helplessly to the floor, her back stiff and flat, trapped against his grasp. His breath was hot on her cheek as he spoke to her, almost rendering her lost into a trance, his lips dangerously close...

...just like they were in the hallway before she left.

Hermione's eyes shot open and she gasped, "Oh my god, you remembered!"

</div>

REASON FOR LIFE Ch. 23

2009-06-15T19:33:46Z

REASON FOR LIFE
Ch. 23
Rated NC17 (overall)
Sirius/Hermione

Ch. 23 - The Hobgoblins, featuring Stubby Boardman

The bustling sounds of Camden in London were alive with life, but there was still a feeling of unknowing. Muggles dressed in dark leather, chains around their belts, ripped shirts, bright neon colored shoes and spiked hair that would almost render it a lethal weapon shared the streets with hidden wizards and witches. Old cars, to Hermione's standards, cruised by the little shops selling alternative clothing, records, cassettes, rock posters and an overall rebellion against disco.

Her heels clicked quickly against the sidewalk along the road. The sound echoed off nearby closed storefronts, reminding her that she was dressed very much out of her ordinary. Alongside of her, wearing leather pants, chained belt, tight Hobgoblins t-shirt that displayed every crevice of his body and messy hair was her wizard. The intimidating stomps of his boots matching her delicate steps.

She had already deemed him her wizard, because he was quickly fitting that empty void in her heart that she failed to notice had remained vacant for true emotion for far too long. She was learning first hand about this insatiable ability for affection to those the cared about, recognizing it first to Harry. It was an incredibly new experience to witness it first hand.

They approached the run-down looking venue that appeared otherwise closed and deserted. The outside billboard was not fully lit, but it flickered like a circuit had a short. This must have been a subtle indication for other wizards attending the concert. All the ticketing windows were closed up and darkened, except for the last one closest to the end of the building around the side.

Hermione clutched Sirius's hand tighter, her other one looping around his upper arm for added support, displaying a mild case of insecurity as they walked passed three odd looking men, obviously muggle vagrants asleep, or drunk, loitering nearby the venue. They looked shifty, suspicious even, and something in Hermione didn't sit right with them. This was a time to always be on your guard; she was taking a great risk going out the way she was in a time she did not belong.

"Sirius..." she whispered to get his attention. Her wand was tucked securely in her belt, but she just couldn't help but admit her disadvantage to the ridiculous shoes she had chosen.

Sirius glanced over passed her to see the unpleasant sight of the leaning bums eyeballing them with suspicion, "It's okay love, they're security." Hermione shook her head a little surprised and looked again to see them looking just as intimidating.

The pair walked up to the last window with the dirty glass. Sirius rested his elbows on the counter, dipping his head inside to see if he recognized anyone working. A wizard wearing a colorful bandana over his forehead with dirty blond hair flopping over counted galleons inside to the side.

"Hey Ded!" Sirius called into the window.

The wizard with dashing blue eyes revealed the dimples in his cheeks as he recognized a face, "Hey Sirius!"

"I didn't know you were working for the Hobgoblins, mate. Why didn't you tell me the other night?"

"Ah, just a one night thing I'm afraid. Not a normal gig for me," the wizard explained, leaning casually over the ticketing counter on his elbows to talk to Sirius. He gave a courteous nod towards Hermione. "You two need tickets?"

"No, I'm mates with Stubby. I'm on his list," Sirius said, glancing over at Hermione with a rewarding wink.

The wizard summoned a piece of parchment with a list of names in golden ink, "Black....Black....yes. It says here you must have a girl?"

"Yes, yes, it's a joke I have with Stubby. Dedalus, this is Hermione," he introduced proudly.

"Nice to meet you miss. I hope you have a good time. You definitely look the part," Dedalus smiled flirtatiously. He had a nerdy innocence about him that she did not feel threatened by. "Blimey Sirius, says here you get the special treatment," Dedalus said, perusing the parchment. "Well, forgive me if I don't kiss your arse."

Sirius chuckled and winked over at Hermione. He was eager to get in as the tuning of instruments from inside was starting to make him buzz, making his foot begin tapping on the pavement.

"Here ya go," Dedalus said, handing Sirius two long lanyards with "V.I.W."(Very Important Wizard/Witch) flashing over on small light weight metal cards. "Do you have any idea how many galleons I could have gotten if I hocked those?"

"Yes, yes," Sirius humored taking one and putting it around Hermione's neck and then his own. "Enjoy the show, Ded!"

"You as well. Just right through those doors," Dedalus said, leaning over and watching the two disappear behind a blue heavy metal door.

Sirius opened it up and it was half met by the immediate assistance of a tall thick bouncer wizard with long dreadlocks and wearing a chainmail shirt. He continued to hold the door for both Sirius and Hermione as they ducked under his telephone pole arms.

A hazy smoke filled the large dark room with small white firecrackers illuminating overhead. To their far right was a bar, where two scantily clad witches in leather made cocktails in the air as they charmed liquor into several classes at once. Ahead of them was a railing before dipping down into a small pit for the more enthused fans to barricade themselves against the front of the stage. It appeared that already magical fans had spent quite a bit of time to reserve their spot at the front of the rather short stage to be front row.

As Hermione looked around the venue, it was dimly lit if any muggle fixtures were used and the fan base was comprised of mostly people wearing clothes more stylishly tattered than what she wore. From flashy neon yellow body suits with go-go boots, to leather mini-skirts and high heels, to fishnet shirts and chains...Hermione was feeling less and less foolish and more and more pleased she had changed from her otherwise boring attire.

Sirius whispered in her ear to come along and they went down into the pit, past the wizard fans and to the far right of the stage where two more wizard bouncers stood firm and alert with their wands in their hands. They looked like they were protecting the instruments that were already displayed and set up for the band, but they clenched their wands tightly, ready to duel, should anyone get a little out of line.

Upon approaching, the bouncer wizards already could see that they were about to be addressed and one leaned over to speak to Sirius, but before he said anything, he just reached out for his lanyard. After a quick inspection he reached for Hermione's to check hers. Once passing whatever approval was needed, he motioned a hand for Sirius and Hermione to get on the stage so they could be escorted behind it.

There were no stairs so Sirius helped Hermione up on the stage, with the assistance of the bouncer wizard, while receiving a few whistles as they drew a little attention. Sirius was close behind and once he was up onstage he immediately reached for her hand. They were pointed in the direction and they set off to explore, or rather find Stubby Boardman and the Hobgoblins.

The backstage of a wizard concert looked very much like a muggle concert, but with fewer wires. They still had to tread over strange instruments and extra guitars as they maneuvered their way to a lit hallway that led them down the hall to the greenroom.

Loud laughter, giggling and clinks of bottles could be heard from the open door ahead; Sirius nodded here and there to the bouncers that secured the back area. They would glance down at their lanyards and then say nothing to them as they passed. Hermione received an extra wink or two whenever they gave her a not-so-subtle once over, reminding her that she was dressed somewhat provocatively.

Sirius walked into the greenroom with Hermione close behind him and was immediately welcomed with a warm reception like he was visiting long lost relatives. Well, long lost relatives that had been three times removed, wore torn jeans and chains, attracted Barbie-doll looking groupies and had a flair for eyeliner.

"Sirius Fucking Black!"

From between two gothic Barbies, a long haired wizard with fried blown out hair started to get up. His eyes were rimmed with deep dark eyeliner. He wore a tattered fishnet tank top with more tears than holes that made you wonder why he even bothered to wear the shirt, fingerless gloves and low riding tight jeans that obviously displayed his lack of underwear.

Stubby Boardman.

The two men embraced roughly as the small room of band members, friends and groupies continued to ramble on or watch the scene.

"Good to see you all dolled up, mate. It's been awhile," Sirius said, patting his friend hard on the back as they opened up for Hermione.

"And, you brought a girl. Witch or muggle?" Stubby asked Hermione before any introduction.

Taken back, Hermione hesitated to answer for herself and she glanced to Sirius as if she needed him to translate.

"Stubby, this is my Hermione," he said proudly. Though rough with Stubby, he did not taint his fancy for her when he said her name.

"Really? That's not the name of the bird you mentioned earlier," Stubby corrected with an overdramatic performance.

Sirius's mouth turned into a sly grin and shook his head, "Don't get me in trouble with her already."

"I'm just kidding!" Stubby pulled away from his friend and immediately embraced the pretty witch in black and pink to loosen her up. "Good to meet you, love. Name's Stubby, but it's not a reputation."

With an obvious alluding wink, Hermione's mouth gaped a couple of times like a fish out of water over his personal introduction, "Ah, hello." She couldn't help but smile with the way he seemed so jovial, yet dangerous.

"Careful, now. She's already spoken for," Sirius friendly warned with a fond tilt of his head for her. He still kept his otherwise rough exterior for the company they kept, but he managed to speak to Hermione with the same dignity and respect as he offered in private.

"Yeah? Did you stun the other guy in order for you to take her out?" Stubby jabbed, fake punching Sirius in the stomach. "Just kidding, love. Come, have a drink, eat - there's loads of food."

"Do you want-"

"I'll go and get us drinks," Hermione interrupted as Stubby went to reclaim his spot between the two Barbies. "You go visit with your friends."

Sirius smiled sweetly and reached to tuck a hair behind her ear. His fingers trailed under her jaw before consenting, "All right."

Sirius went around the room, shaking hands and giving slaps to the fellow band members he had known quite well from the many concerts he'd attended. They all welcomed him as if he was one of their own and taking a seat amongst the circle in a worn old sunken couch, leaving an empty spot for Hermione.

Glancing over at Hermione standing at the catered bar, Stubby leaned over his knees to speak to Sirius who sat across from him, "Well, what is she?"

Sirius gave an arrogant sniff and pretended to file his nails on his shirt, "She's muggleborn."

"You son-of-a-bitch!" Stubby chuckled and slapped his friend on the knee. "They're a rarity these days, mate. Is she any good?"

"She is, to say the least, absolutely incredible. And that's all I'm saying," Sirius smiled smugly, welcoming the return of Hermione as she handed him a butterbeer bottle.

Stubby watched the witch carefully, probably more than necessary and in the wrong state of mind. He held a mutual respect with Sirius when it came to witches, but that didn't mean he wouldn't flirt with her any chance he got.

One by one, Hermione was introduced to the rest of the band members. The only other women in the room were the two Barbies that sat on either side of Stubby like giggling mindless bookends. Their low cut tank tops practically painted on and skirts that were shorter than their underwear line added to their lack of personality that could nowhere compare to Hermione. They did not add to any conversations, but merely served as a visual stimulant before the show.

From hand to lips to hand passing, a bottle of mysterious clear liquid made the round around the circle. Each sip resulted in a burning of the throat, a seething sound from their tongue and then an exhale of mist through their lips. When the bottle made its way to Sirius, he passed it over Hermione and handed it to the next band member without taking a sip of his own.

"Always the responsible one, Sirius," Stubby burped, scratching his chest and ripping a few more holes in his fishnet top.

Sirius just grinned and shook his hair out of his face, "Someone's got to try and keep you alive, Stub."

"And many times, I believe you did, mate. Like that time I wanted to jump off the Tower of London?"

"You did, Stubby," Sirius dimly drawled. "I had to transfigure the phone box into a big pillow to catch you in your drunken escapades."

"Oh, yeah!" Stubby perked up, taking the old bottle from the nearby Barbie witch who looked otherwise unaware of her surroundings. "But then, I saved you when you got in trouble with those American cheerleaders here on their school trip-"

"FIVE MINUTES!" a stage hand yelled into the room from standing in the doorway. He held a clipboard and quill and he tapped it anxiously to get their full attention. In a rush, all the band members scrambled to find their footing and an inch of sobriety to make it for last minute touch ups or costume additions.

"An American cheerleader story? Saved in the nick of time," Hermione whispered into Sirius's ear. She was curious about the rest of the story, but sure Stubby's state of mind had already lost its train of thought.

Meeting her heavenly brown eyes, he couldn't help but have a few more skeletons in the closet, "No kidding. Just don't ask."

The smell and sound of hairspray filled the room as all four band members sprayed in unison, teased and pulled their hair to be even more mangled than a rat's nest. The female ornaments sat patiently together on the couch, smiling blankly to both Hermione and Sirius as if they were desperately hoping to be instructed what to do.

"So, Stubby, have you only been popping up here and there for private gigs?" Sirius asked, lightly patting Hermione's leg to stand up with him. He imagined that they were all going to be leaving soon to filter out with the crowd.

"Yeah!" the tall haired wizard called back. He was spraying and applying glitter on his face as he talked. "It's getting too scary out there, mate. It's getting too dark, even for me. Saw your Bella-"

"She's not my Bella, Stub," Sirius moaned with disdain.

"Yeah well, she's something to look at, but damn if she truly isn't he-who-must-not-be-named's lady. Oh, she gives me the willies."

Hermione just stood by Sirius, taking in the wizard rocker's perception that was the absolute truth. Whether she hadn't declared it at the time, Bellatrix had said she was the most loyal to Voldemort.

"Yeah, well, you're not alone," Sirius said, reaching for Hermione's hand and giving it a light squeeze as he lovingly interlaced their fingers.

"ONE MINUTE, GOBLINS!" the stage hand yelled as he leaned in the door with his lanyard flying around.

At the sound of the frantic stage hand that was desperately trying to ignite a fire under the bands' rear, Sirius gave the band a good luck and escorted Hermione back out to the main venue. They found a good spot in front of the stage, right behind some very eager fans that chanted over and over again for the band to come out.

Hermione felt very much out of her element. Surrounded in an environment that she, herself, would never attend; she was glad that Sirius stood close with a hand around her waist. The venue was smoky and dark, like it had been imploded and the smoke and debris were still clearing, and the acoustics made the crowd's voices echo like a dragon's roar in a cave.

Faces blended together, but all had the favor of the shadows and low lighting on their side. Hermione glanced around, taking in her surrounds, when in the midst of some taller fans, a thin young man stood out as he smiled and laughed with a few others. Wearing a typical black t-shirt and jeans, he had a chain attaching his wallet and arm warmers to hide his wrists...or forearms. She recognized the smile, his sparkling eyes and the way he played it rather innocent in a room full of rock fans.

I know him...Barty Crouch Junior.

"See something interesting love?" Sirius asked leaning his face in next to hers.

The sound of his suspecting voice forced her to look away, "No, no - I just thought I recognized someone. I was wrong."

She had to lie; there was nothing more about it. The man who would kidnap a well-known Auror and steal pieces of his hair to add to polyjuice potion in order to help bring Voldemort back was standing a few feet from them. He was found guilty of being a Death Eater, which would explain his arm warmers, and was part of the torturing team of the Longbottoms. An evil boy in the making and standing too close to them. Hermione had to turn away, it was almost too tempting to expose.

Meanwhile, Sirius laid light kisses over her temples as he ran his hands up and down her arms. Her back pressed close against his chest.

The surrounding sounds began to murmur together at different volumes, but it was the collective high pitched, "SIRIUS!" was like a splash of cold water over them...and it was in stereo.

Hermione was just craning her neck around like Sirius as she just barely missed an arm flying past her face as it wrapped itself with another pair around her date's neck. In a blur, two very provocatively dressed witches tackled Sirius in a very affectionate manner that caught even him off guard.

"Where have you been-"

"We haven't seen you at the pub-"

"Heard you broke up with Giselle-"

"She wasn't good enough for you-"

"Oh, Sirius, take me for a ride on your motorbike, please-"

Sirius finally got his footing as the two witches rubbed themselves against him, forcing him to rest his arms around their shoulders. He was able to wriggle out of their clutches; their arms pulling on him like tentacles.

"Ladies please," he tamed, breaking free and taking his place next to Hermione. "Not tonight."

"What?" one of the witches whined, followed by a dramatic pout. Neither woman had even taken notice to the girl he stood so close to.

"Not tonight, I'm sorry," he declared. He glanced over at Hermione to make sure she was unscathed, quickly reclaiming her hand.

"But, Sirius-"

"No, ladies, I'm sorry," he said calmly. His tone had an air of arrogance, breaking the news like their world was about to collapse. "I'm not really available anymore."

Hermione felt incredibly self-conscious as the women's eyes slowly narrowed in on her, sizing her up rather scandalously. She hadn't felt this singled out since the stares of being Viktor Krum's date at the ball her fourth year. She remembered all the vicious sets of eyes and clucking tongues as she was compared and doubted for being good enough for someone like him, not to mention the "thing he'd miss the most" during the second task in the lake. Unfortunately, those events were coming to haunt her again, and the fact that she might have heard Sirius use the word "girlfriend" to them just made her want to melt into the dingy scuffed floor.

The remaining conversation faded out between Sirius and the two other witches, whose skirts were so short she could see their religion and tube tops so tiny they could have been headbands. While her face began to warm, it wasn't until Sirius leaned over to kiss the side of her neck did she realize they had left them.

"I told you that you had the ability to change me," he whispered as he feathered his lips along the outside of her ear.

Hermione was quickly returning to her center, closing her eyes and tuning all the surrounding sounds away. She reached up to rest her hand on his shoulder and let her fingers trail up around his neck.

"I love the way you make me act," he continued close and intimate. "I want to know every bit of you, what you feel like, what you taste like-"

"Sirius, not here," she whispered bashfully. It was not the place to have him pouring on the charm. Her tolerance was low and at this rate she wasn't going to last through the first song.

He made no attempt to hide his smile, his canine teeth peeking just below his upper lip, when he noticed her uneasiness. It pleased him greatly that she was responding rather receptively to his touches and words. Her resistance was slowly dwindling down and judging by the color of rose in her cheeks, he needed to behave. He pulled her in closer to position himself behind her as they faced the stage. His arms slid around her waist protectively and locking her to him.

The crowd around them started to get a little more vocal and soon erupted into stronger whistles and applause. One by one the band members started to enter, waving to their audience and beginning to put on or charm their instruments.

"I've just got two words for you to think about," he whispered closely, "long night."

Hermione stiffened like she was standing in the shower and it just turned cold. She felt her skin flush, her heart start to flutter and the overwhelming urge to hyperventilate came to surface. He was speaking about the inevitable. He was thinking about it, suggesting it, urging it, stoking her fire...and she was responding to his every request. Subconsciously, her hands had traveled down her sides and behind her, around his legs where her fingers lightly stroked the soft leather covering his thighs.

Stubby had come out to a strong, loud, thunderous applause. Several sparks from wands went up in the air as the crowd raised their hands. Immediately, extinguishing charms flew over their heads as the security wizards attempted to contain the overzealous drunken magic at the concert. They couldn't confiscate wands, but they could numb them so they couldn't do hazardous spells.

But, Hermione didn't notice. She was too drawn into the way Sirius cradled her tightly against him. She felt the slight vibrations against her back from his chest as his lungs called out and cheered Stubby on. His movement was arousing as he jittered on the balls of his feet, his hands laying over her in different places. Being against him made her feel safe and wanted. Like in a dream you never wanted to wake from, her heart was beating in her temples, her throat was going blissfully dry and waves of good dizziness washed over her in a warm euphoria.

"Step careful, love," Sirius interrupted, nudging her closer to the stage where and empty spot on the railing had opened. His hands stayed around her all the way until she reached the railing where he locked her in protectively from the surrounding crowd.

An hour into the concert, Stubby continued to thrill the crowd rocking hard and making sure everyone at the gig was having the time of their lives. Even Hermione. However, she had summoned small ear plugs to help lower the volume of the speakers. But, Stubby sung his heart out screaming into the microphone a sort of love ballad one might hear if heavy metal love was your thing. Half the lyrics were hard to decipher, but as Sirius sung along next to her, bouncing behind her and cheering his mate on, she would catch on what the song was about. A few times, Stubby would come over to their side of the stage and gyrate in a rather rude way, but it was more for the humorous factor than a turn on. However, the two scantily clad witches that had accosted Sirius earlier made it quite close to them and nearly fainted when Stubby was performing his rhythmic gyrations that could only be compared to a telephone poll doing the hula.

The drums echoed louder into the forum, bouncing off the walls hard enough Hermione believed that she may have seen a few rocks of debris from some weakly supported rafters. The music crowd began to get rowdier, pulling around each other and shoving up against bodies like they were feeling and living the music along with the gyrating singer on stage with wild blown out hair. She felt Sirius's hands no longer holding her in a flirtatious manner, but in more of a protective manner. An area on their right opened up and step by step, Sirius began to pull Hermione away from wild limbs and closed-eyed thrashers dodging about like their shoes had springs on the bottom.

More debris began to fall from overhead, this time more than could not be noticed. The overhead lighting began to shake. Nearby, a few empty beer bottles rattled right onto the floor, shattering to the hard ground. The floor beneath them was definitely vibrating, causing their footing to become a bit more unsteady.

Something was happening.

"Stay close to me," Sirius said as he started to pull his wand out of his back pocket.

Hermione followed his lead and pulled hers from an inner pocket of her skirt, gripping it firmly to her side. The two of them backed away, watching the crowd no longer following the vibe of the music but reacting poorly to the blatant disregard for authority.

"STUPEFY!" several yelled and people, tables and loose chairs flew in every direction.

Sirius immediately pulled Hermione to crouch down to the floor, keeping his head low, he shielded her with his body from flying bottles that soared through the air like low diving birds. The room quickly filled with smoke and screams of distressed people.

"Stand down! Stand down!" a leader called out with his voice bellowing throughout the room louder than what came out of the onstage microphone.

Without even trying to decipher any reason for the situation, Hermione immediately began to panic within. Trapped in a strange place, in a time she did not belong to, in some sort of bombing! She never noticed the ceiling hanging so low and the walls a revolting shade of red-brown that was only accented by the dusty air she could barely see through and the florescent overhead lights that had been turned on. Blinking her eyes furiously she reached for Sirius's free hand to grasp and make sure he was close.

"It's all right love, it's a raid," he whispered low to her, still ducking over her and craning his neck to see the small army that was walking in.

She followed his sightlines to a small unit of a dozen wizards and witches, all armed with their wand tips pointing at the crowd, standing ready and on their guard. They immediately blocked all the exits, stood by any open doorways and already had two standing on the stage guarding the band and surveying the crowd below them.

"This is your only chance now to surrender!" a grave voice bellowed, followed by a familiar wooden clunking leg scraping across the dirty ashen floor. He commanded the small army to round up the concert goers with a wave of his wand to bind them magically in the center of the room with invisible ropes.

"Let's go, you two," a sharp voice snapped from behind Sirius and Hermione who still crouched low on the ground. An unfriendly hand pulled both of them up from the back of their shirts and shoved them back into the crowd.

"Oi! Let me see Moody!" Sirius barked back to the man wearing all black with a burette. Though the man looked no older than they did, it was apparent by the fresh scars on his face that he'd already seen some things.

"Shut up! You will at the Ministry!" the scarred man shouted, displaying his sheer lack of impatience.

The Ministry? I cannot go to the Ministry!

Hermione ducked her head behind Sirius as they were pressed further in the fighting crowd. Like angry biting dogs, they were beginning to rebel with their own wands aimed at the small army. They may have not outnumbered them, but three people already lay stunned on the floor bound in medieval looking shackles; it was obvious they were out skilled.

Hermione swallowed and tried to keep herself poised and alert, but her shaking hands reached out for Sirius to grip his shirt. She was beginning to feel the weight of the harsh reality and guilt settle in on her; her fate threatening to never return home.

"We're not fucking Death Eaters! Let me see Moody, he's right there! I can hear him tearing up the floor with his wooden leg!" Sirius yelled to the man who stood like a steel soldier, uninterested in listening to what one man had to say and was more interested in the other thirty behind him that may have been ready to attack.

"Sirius, they think we're Death Eaters?" Hermione asked with definite worry, her voice shaking quietly. She gripped his arm, forcing him to face her and not entice the guard.

"They do, they're Aurors, but I know Moody, he's a friend-"

"Shut it, punk!" the man yelled, drowning Sirius's voice into the crowd.

"I want everyone in two lines! If you can't count to two, then we'll be happy to give you a lesson. If any of you casts anything in any of our directions, believe me, there will be no time for you to explain your accident, but plenty time later for your families to bury you-"

"You can't kill, it's hypocritical!" a lone voice shouted over the instructions from the center of the grouped concert goers.

"We can and we will. First dismissal goes to the cowards that support Voldemort!" Mad-Eye Moody informed with defiant power.

Several shouting jeers from the rounded crowd retaliated, but no one, yet, threatened with their wand. Hermione stayed close to Sirius, her eyes darting all around them as if looking for a way out from the cell of the venue, desperately frightened that she was about to get herself hurt, or worse, put Sirius in a place that he should not be. He shouldn't be at the concert, he should be home!

Behind them, Sirius and Hermione felt a struggle from the back of the crowd they were forced to band with. Pushing and shoving hurled Hermione hard against Sirius's back, feeling the thrusting of two wizards making a break and dashing away. In seconds, two wand streams were out and cast upon the running pair and as if their will to run had been vacuumed away, they fell on top of one another like a stack of marionettes.

They were dead.

Hermione took in several feared gasps, stunned by the simplicity of the work performed. Sirius turned around and quickly turned her away from the scene, forcing her to press her head against his chest as he attempted to sooth her.

Her body shivered in his grasp, her hands over her mouth to cover her breaking face. The horror of the scene was too realistic, she'd seen it before at the Battle at Hogwarts the year Voldemort fell and this was only the beginning of their future. She'd learned to get over death and blood, but it was the idea and fear that she could not fight here, she could not use her smartest spells and cleverness was not a challenge. She had put Sirius in danger by being there...on that night...without a way out. She had already risked too much and her very existence was at risk.

"Don't look, Hermione," Sirius whispered sternly, cradling her and patting her head. "I need Moody, now!" Sirius yelled at the wizard nearby again, this time with the voice of a wolf.

Hermione took big gaping breaths, trying to rekindle strength and show a little bravery in the situation. She could not crumble, this was not foreign to her; it was something she knew and yet it was still so difficult to grasp her mind around. She was a fish out of water and too far away from home. She peeked her eyes over Sirius's shoulder as he, once again, tried to usher another wizard over to hear his requests over countless other wails and arguments.

The two lifeless bodies lay broken as another female Auror knelt down to check their arms. She raised the shirt of the first dead wizard, revealing a clean left forearm. "Clean!" she called out to another supervising over her shoulder. She pulled the sleeve of the dead wizard furthest from her where she yelled, "Hit!" The Dark Mark was sharp and very obvious tattooed on the second wizard's forearm.

The solid clunking of a wooden leg got louder as the crowd silenced in a wave as Mad-Eye Moody came to the other side of the group of concert goers. His magical eye rolled around in its socket, committing all faces to memory as if everyone looked like a familiar suspect. The witch or wizard he would stop and take particular interest in cowered as they stared at his rotating eye with repulsiveness and fear.

Sirius had one eye on the nearby wizard that stood straight and militant, his wand behind him and primed between his fingers as he waited for Moody to come closer. Once he was three wizards to his and Hermione's right, he began trying to fight for his attention.

"Moody! Moody, here!"

"Sirius?" Moody saw him and gave a repulsed frown. He reached for his shirt and pulled him away from the crowd, pulling Hermione with him. "What in a toad's rectum are you doing here, boy? Do you have any idea...any idea what is crawling in these walls?"

"Sorry, sir, it's just-"

"Who is she? I don't know her!" Moody barked. He continued to hold onto the front of Sirius's shirt as he went to reach for Hermione's left arm, turning it over to let his wandering eye inspect that she wasn't trying to cover anything up.

"She's clean! She's not one of them, Moody. You have my word," Sirius explained. Even being held gruff by his shirt, he knew where respect was to be given and when he could supposedly be in some rather deep trouble with the wrong sort.

"Why are you here, Sirius?" Moody asked again, finally letting go of his shirt and stretching out his fingers. His magical eye was reversed and watching his Aurors behind him.

"Sorry mate, I'm friends with Stubby."

"Who?"

"The lead singer."

"Oh, fine." His magical eye came back to face them and it glanced over at Hermione suspiciously. "Wrong place to be tonight, boy. We knew this was a set up and half of this room is definitely on my list. I think it might be best if you two went straight home - now."

"Good idea, Moody," Sirius nodded. He was glad that this was going to be a lot simpler than the rest of the wizards and witches in that room. His thoughts went to Stubby and not because he might be a suspected Death Eater, but by the amount of muggle narcotics he had stored in his dressing room at that moment.

"You, girl, who are your parents?" Moody barked, looking all the way on Hermione, now. To Moody everyone was a suspect.

Hermione froze, half wanting to tell him that he was her former professor gone missing, she was Harry Potter's best friend and fellow member of the Order, but none of that could come out.

"Dentists!" she shouted from an unknown voice. She was too distracted by protecting the truth, so she decided to panic and yell it. "They're both muggle dentists!"

"Hmm, muggles? Girl, you are not safe in this room. Sirius, you've put her in a lot of danger being here. A lot!"

"I thought it would-"

"You thought wrong, boy. Get her home and if you like her the way I think you do, it might be best to keep a close eye on her. She's got plans to leave soon," Moody predicted, but by reading the look on her guilty face, he knew he was right. "She's a sitting duck here."

"Got it, mate. Thanks," Sirius nodded, putting a hand around her waist and holding her to him tightly.

With a nod of his chin, his eye and then his head turned toward the murmuring crowd. As they saw the Head Auror allow the two to leave, a slight disruption stirred just as the door opened and several streams of light flashed over heads and thuds fell to the floor unceremoniously.

"Don't look back, love," Sirius said, pushing Hermione quickly out the door. Once outside, they were cloaked with the night air, but the silence outside was unsettling. Sirius hugged Hermione closely next to him, his arm tightly around her waist.

Sirius looked down the street that he had frequented often on his motorbike. Storefronts that were once alive, only hours ago, with music, clothing, colors and fishnets were closed up and deserted. It was as if someone had just pulled the plug of their electricity and were forced to button in for the night. The silence was deafening and all that could be heard were the echoing steps of Hermione's heeled shoes.

"Sirius?" Hermione asked, noticing the deserted streets. She looked right and left with him, seeing that not anyone, not one muggle was out that night. Not even a vagrant looking for some loose change or leftover fast food wrappers along the street. "Where did everyone-"

"It's not safe," Sirius immediately accepted with a shake of his head. His black locks flew around his sightlines as he gripped Hermione tighter, possibly painfully even. "I shouldn't have taken you here, Moody's right. You were a sitting duck."

He rushed Hermione to the side of the building again, as if trying to get out of view, or out of such a targeted area. They appeared to be the only souls on the block, aside from the wizards holed up in the Forum behind them, but even they could not be heard. The venue sounded just as it appeared, deserted, dilapidated and abandoned.

Hermione's steps were a bit quicker as she was ushered to a dark side of the building, "Sirius, I don't feel safe here."

"I know, we're going," he quipped, pushing her against a building. He glanced back around the corner once they were out of sight, in order to get one more look in. He put her arms around his neck and three seconds later they Disapperated

Reason for Life Ch. 22 "A Change of Character"

2009-05-21T02:00:33Z

Title: Reason for Life
Chapter 22 - "A Change of Character"
Sirius/Hermione
Rated NC17

Ch. 22 - A Change of Character

There was a dull buzzing in the air and it was not from the motorcycle that they sat on like a galloping steed. Something euphoric had come about them, filling to max capacity and it could only be amounted to sincere content. A final knowing, or rather a final knowing of wanting desire.

Through the streets the tires of the motorcycle soared on ground level, passing cars at red lights, muggles in crosswalks and defeating laws of gravity on tight turns. The wind was in their hair as they looked ahead together, watching the lights turn green as if clearing the path just for them.

Sirius rode his bike like a true commander. He was in complete control, knowing how it could handle nearly anything. With both hands on the handlebars, his shoulders remained relaxed as his precious cargo clung to him not because she needed to, but because she wanted to. He knew with the way her arms wrapped around his chest that she was doing more than just hanging on, she was holding him. He would see in his peripheral her chin resting on his shoulder or feel her cheek pressed against his back, as if hugging him was just making the journey easier for her.

She was beginning to grow accustomed to this mode of travel, but it was the idea of being on it with him. Far from the day when he held onto her hips and they soared together over Hogwarts on the back of a Hippogriff, her feelings then were unknown. She found peace in the gentle rumbling of the engine between her legs, pushing herself just a little closer against him so that the vibration could be shared or lessened.

Whatever it was, it was strangely erotic to find the courage to not need him to prevent falling off. She bit her tongue to bask in the desire to let go of his waist and allow her hands to travel around his denim thighs. Afraid her balance would be off, she managed one hand still around his waist, her chin on his shoulder, and that free hand to slide over his thigh with a gentle squeeze. She felt the murmuring of a growl as she leaned against him, encouraging her to touch him any way she wanted.

They pulled into number 24, the gate covered with overgrown vines with flowers, unveiling the worn driven drive that Sirius had turned in and out of frequently. The gate closed on its own once they were safely on the other side. Sirius stopped his motorbike, turned the keys out of the ignition and helped her off with an extended hand.

"Now why are we here, again?" Hermione asked, swinging her leg off his warm motorcycle. Her legs were still slightly numb from riding.

Sirius swung his keys around his finger as they walked together hand-in-hand. As they reached the stairs, he leaned over and took his wand from his boot.

"Alohamora," he said, letting the door swing open for the two of them to pass through. "We can't go in this. We'll stick out."

Hermione spun around to face him as he walked passed her down the hallway and ahead of her to go into the kitchen. His boots echoed off the hardwood floors, practically announcing his arrival home. When he went ahead of her, she couldn't help but let her eyes scan down the rear of him, letting her eyes flutter shamelessly.

"You expect me to wear your clothes?" she asked, not quite sure what Sirius meant.

He turned around to walk backwards in front of her, "No, I have some things for you. First, we have a beer."

"No beer for me, thanks. What could you possibly have for me?" she chuckled, walking around the center island of his kitchen. She leaned over the counter on her elbows as her head tilted curious.

"You'll just have to go up and see. Wine, then?" he asked as he went around the opposite side of the island counter. He was already opening his refrigerator to take out a bottle for himself, swinging himself around to inquire about the wine.

She nodded, "Red, please."

After a toast, Sirius led Hermione up the stairs to the second floor. The stairs were carpeted with a dark mahogany Berber, but the wood underneath still creaked its age. Deep cherry wood with an elaborate curl at the end made the railing, adding an aristocratic flair to it that still showed his pureblood royal taste. Hermione slid her hand up the soft wood, carrying her wine careful and steady. Overhead an antique chandelier hung with romantically dripping candles almost as enchanted as Hogwarts.

Once they got to the top, they turned left to go down the long narrow hall opening up to at least four more bedrooms. Along the walls, still prints of muggle photography hung almost making the home decor look more muggle than wizard. Surely something he was trying to get away from - the prejudice muggle hating.

He opened up the first door on the right to a very simple guest room with pale blue walls, a small double bed with a gorgeous comforter and accented pillows in silver and red. The windows were draped elegantly in sheer panels, hiding their privacy, but allowing a fair amount of sunlight to seep in on brighter days.

Sirius set his beer down on the guest bureau and went over to a tall dark wooden wardrobe, opening up the doors with the flourish of a staged muggle magician.

"Surely, you can find something in here," he said, taking a few steps back to allow her to see the row of choices.

Inside the wardrobe, several types of women's clothes hung from the most sophisticated suits to barely there mini skirts and tube tops. There were enough choices there that it was almost a mystery that maybe a woman had been living there and he wasn't exactly being honest.

Hermione's eyebrows rose, as if she was almost wondering if Sirius kept a darker secret that even she didn't know years from now. She sipped her wine timidly, guarded almost, letting her eyes go from the wardrobe and then back to Sirius who stood there unknowingly with his beer as if he were admiring a strange collection.

"Um, something I should maybe know?" she asked curiously. His look of interest was concerning her.

It took an entire full four minutes before Sirius's mind got back to her train of thought. At first he stared blankly at her, innocent almost, like a child unaware of color. Then, his eyes bulged and his face cracked into a humored smile with bright white teeth as if he was totally submerged in ignorance.

He was swallowing as he shook his head, his fingers splayed before him in denial, "No, no, love! These aren't mine, they were left behind."

"Left behind? By whom?"

He cleared his throat nervously and tilted his head back to clear the stray locks that had fallen in his face, "I can't remember all their names to be honest, but it was only about three or four of the same ones. Whatever, it doesn't matter now." He said, trying to divert the attention off him and back onto her selection of clothes. "You go in there and pick out something to wear."

"What's wrong with what I'm wearing, honestly?" she asked with a hand on her hip, following him to the doorway of the guest room she stood in. His hints weren't as clear as he so confidentially assumed.

He spun around once in the doorway, his face alight and his voice exhausted with enthusiasm, "Darling, the Hobgoblins! Right, you have no clue," he remembered. "It's punk love. Good old fashioned punk. In muggle terms, think of the Clash or Sex Pistols. Now you get it?"

"Sirius, I don't know if this is really going to be my thing," she said a little worried. The most daring thing she had in her closet at home was a rather fitting Chudley Cannons shirt she got as a present...from Ron.

"Look love, you don't really have a say in this. Stubby put me on his guest list and I need a date," he leaned in to kiss her quickly. "So, get undressed!" he added with a swift pat on her rear as he left the room and closed the door behind him, leaving her alone with the wardrobe.

Hermione stared at the thick oak door acting like a portcullis in a castle. She was trapped and she wasn't able to leave until her attire was changed and her inner punk, where that may be, had come alive and inspired. As she turned around to face the wardrobe, the thin tattered lingerie a bit on the intimidating side, she overheard Sirius humming down the hallway singing the lyrics, "Now I wanna....be your dog!" quite loudly.

A half hour had passed and Hermione was alone with her thoughts, and in the midst of several discarded clothing that had been tried on, taken off, tried on again and then finally thrown back onto the bed . She turned her head towards the door as she heard Sirius coming down the hallway and then down the stairs with a muffled creak. She guessed she had about ten more minutes before he returned to check on her.

Her progress was decent, having tried at least four or five combinations with starting with her own jeans on down to ghastly dated attire. Her eyes scanned over the bed, double checking her second thoughts to see if what she was going to settle on was the right decision. She was forced to transform into a time in which only muggle photos survived her family's proof that they had endured this kind of torture.

As she pulled on a single fishnet glove, her fingers wiggled elegantly through the air like she was just testing out a new skin. She took a deep breath to calm herself, preparing for the worst. Then, very timidly, she moved slowly in front of the mirror; her eyes closed tightly not wanting to peek.

When she opened her eyes she threw her head back laughing, almost cackling, when she was first to witness one of the many phases of muggle singer Madonna. Her laughter filled the room, forcing her gloved hand to stifle the sound. She didn't want Sirius to think she was mental.

The magic mirror on the wall revealed her wearing a ruffled pink skirt that fell to mid thigh, a pair of half-calf black leggings to hide her modesty should her skirt ride too high, black high heels , her own black tank top and an off the shoulder torn netted shirt. Her hair was half up in a pony tail, teased nearly beyond repair, along with a solid black headband. She found about a dozen different bracelets she dangled on her wrists and for the final icing on the cake, she found a mildly spiked dog collar with dull edges at the bottom of a drawer that she thought would be good for a touch of irony.

"Are you okay in there, love?" Sirius called from the other side of the door.

With a start, she spun around to make sure he wasn't coming in. The rest of her clothes, as well as the discarded ones lay all over the bed.

"I'm fine, almost done! Don't come in, yet. I'll be downstairs in a minute," she called back running to the bed to start tidying up. Her bangle bracelets rattled around her wrists as she moved swiftly.

"I'll be eagerly waiting," he charmed back. The noise of the stairs indicated that he was on his way back down to the kitchen.

After waving her wand to put everything back into the wardrobe, even the leopard print leggings she was nearly repulsed by, she took one more look at herself in the mirror.

"Someone has got to take a picture of this," she mused in the mirror, pulling the end of her short skirt down as far as it would allow. She just as well only wear the leggings with the amount she was almost revealing. "If they did, it's too bad no one would be able to see it."

Her last small detail was the extra chain around her neck. Her Time Turner wasn't able to be seen, but she noticed it. Tucked under the dog collar, the chain fell under her tank top, but still left a little bump against her skin. The mesh top hid it, but it was the idea that she would have it on in such an environment. What if something happened to it? What if it was accidentally torn from around her neck? She had no idea what sort of crowd Sirius was taking her into. So, in a last decision, she pulled the chain over her head and folded it carefully into her bag.

Closing the door behind her, Hermione's steps creaked along the staircase, practically announcing her descent. She could hear Sirius tinkering around in the kitchen and then the sound of contained air from a beer bottle being released as the top was popped off.

"Okay, promise you won't laugh?" she called out, still hiding behind the wall. Her face was already flushed and nervous, but it was all too real when she heard her high heels clicking across the wooden floor. She bit her lip trying not to giggle and walked around the corner to see him standing behind the island bar.

"Wow!" he barked, followed by a cat-calling whistle. "Hermione you look...you look...wow! I'm sorry, you've just floored me." She noticed the way his lips parted, honestly taken away with her new look.

"Look at you!" she declared once she took in his changed attire. He was wearing a fitted Hobgoblins t-shirt that fit snuggly against his chest, almost like a second skin. His hair was tussled, like he'd run his hands through it after dousing it with water, giving him that "just got done head banging" look. He came around the island counter and as her eyes scanned the length of him, she parted her own lips and forced a swallow. For a moment, she thought she was going to trip while standing up as she noticed, "Oh Merlin, you're wearing leather pants!"

His slender legs and waist were sleek with soft leather that molded to his form nicely, but not too tight. They hung low on his hips and booted out at the bottom to allow his black biker, not cowboy, boots to stick out. He reminded her like a dark Jim Morrison, lead singer of the Doors with the way he sulked over to her, obviously eyeing her up and down skeptically.

"Yes, that all right?" he hummed reaching for her hand. He twirled her around like a princess to admire the way her new clothes fit her in all the right places.

Still breathless from her Adonis vision, she managed, "It's just that..."

"Go on."

She had come around full circle for him and tried to finish, "It's just that you look...Oh, I'm so embarrassed."

"Is that it?" he baited with a low sexy voice.

"Sorry," she sighed. Shaking her head and glancing down to his very attractive thighs that looked thick and muscular for his shape, she finally managed, "I surrender."

Like learning he had won his prize, he smiled broadly and bearing the tips of his canine teeth, "Well, if I had known that this was what it took, I would have worn them around you weeks ago." He slipped his hands around her waist and pulled her closer.

His eyes scanned over her, now that she hung in his arms like a limp doll. He took a full three seconds to trace every feature to memory, before he closed his eyes to smell her. Her freshly applied perfume was beginning to act as an aphrodisiac, leaving him nearly helpless under her bewitching enchantment. His eyes dipped down to her neck, eyeing the added choker around her neck.

"Did you do this on purpose?" he asked taking a finger and touching her collar.

Bashful eyes fell away for only a second and she bit her lip to look coy, "I may have."

"How did you know?" he whispered. His secret was always safely guarded.

She hesitated for a moment, unable to explain it. Butterflies welled up into her ribcage, embarrassed by her mistake of mentioning it. "I figured it out. Remember, even you said I could read people."

Rolling his eyes submissively, he had no choice but to accept her rather weak answer. He tightened his grip around her waist, making sure she felt his belt buckle pressing into her stomach. He moved in to take in her scent again, like smelling fear in a frightened animal. As he nuzzled his nose into her hair he was able to elicit a definite sigh from her.

"Promise you won't tell?" he pled with a breathy tone, using her weakness to his advantage.

Hearing the sound of his voice rendered her powerless against him. Her skin felt more sensitive to his subtle touch every inch he went as he traced a finger around her neck.

She closed her eyes and answered in almost an inebriated tone, "It will be our little secret. I promise."

Sirius felt like he was slowly earning the upper hand in this game and felt the true old prowling desire to tease her. Rather than sate himself with the softness of her lips that poised up towards him in dire need of

quenching, he pulled away to leave her wanting.

Glancing at the clock, they still had plenty of time for another drink. So after another glass of red wine was filled they both sat together on the suede love seat near the fire.

With a flourish of his wand and a beer bottle in the other, Sirius charmed a record out of a nearby sleeve from across the room to position it on top of a record player. A slow swift twist of the wrist and the needle of the player was gently lying down on the scratching player.

The room soon filled with the gentle noise of the record on the turntable before the crackling began to open into a guitar solo, followed by a pair of cymbals and then finally a single voice beginning to call out into song. What sounded like static noise at first turned into a rhythmic sound of rock and roll meets psychedelic punk...by wizards.

"Consider this your crash course, then," Sirius said kicking his feet up on the coffee table in front of them.

Hermione kicked off her heels and perched her legs underneath her as she leaned to face Sirius and the way he sunk into the back of the couch like it was absorbing him into it. Even through the heavy drums, he closed his eyes and feigned relaxation.

Sirius's hair looked particularly soft in the low light of the living room that she felt compelled to run her fingers through it. Careful not to scratch him like a dog, she gently played through his hair as he turned his head to face her in gratitude, but did not open his eyes.

Hermione rested her head against her working hand, admiring the way his face looked so rested and at ease. Gorgeous dark eyelashes fluttered with each stroke that she made, displaying his pleasure in lieu of a slight grin. He was such a beautiful wizard to look at, still so young, that she almost couldn't wait to get back to her own time to make the comparison. He'd matured into a rather handsome man in his mid-thirties, reminding Hermione that whatever happened in this time could only be in this time.

"Is he speaking French?" Hermione asked; her interest peaked for a moment when she heard some of the lyrics. She glanced towards the crackling record player.

"Just that one bit. He's English, but he likes to brag that he knows a few languages in his songs. You recognized that?" Sirius said, finally opening his eyes to his heavenly witch. Feeling her fingers in his hair made him realize his subtle arousal.

She nodded, "Yes, I know French."

"So do I," he said with a waggle of his eyebrows. There was definitely a slight twinge within him for her.

"Yes? Any other language you know?" she asked, trying not to let him bait her too much. She had to have been blind to not have noticed the way his eyes started to reveal a mischievous spark as she pet him. However, she was blinded by the intrigue of discovering something new.

"I can scrape by with a little Russian."

"Russian? Wouldn't take you for that sort of complexity."

He remained relaxed and at ease as looked at her. Her fingers still threaded themselves through his hair, he didn't want to move. He felt compelled to finally push the envelope, say something she wouldn't figure out and put his heart on his sleeve at least in another tongue.

"Вы делаете это так легко, Hermione. Я мог бы быть тот, кто вам необходима мне быть. Я влюбленность с вами," he said fluidly. **

"And what did you just say?" she beamed.

It surprised him to admit so much honesty. Even in a foreign language she may not have understood, but it was the principle that he had admitted it whole heartedly. Looking into her eyes gave him a sense of peace and silencing in the outside dark world that was encompassing them without anywhere to turn.

He took her wine glass out of her hand and set it on the coffee table next to his have empty beer bottle. He then reached for her neck to kiss her, "I just said how beautiful you are to me, Hermione."

Tasting Sirius was like enjoying a sweet strawberry, sometimes it was bitter, sometimes it was perfect and in the end it was good for you. His kiss was leaving her helpless against him, like a lost little sheep in the night and all that was left was the hungry wolf about to strike. Oh, but how she thoroughly enjoyed the wolf and every bit of him, right down to his leather pants.

She felt breathless for a moment, desperately needing air, but it was confused with the overwhelming desire welling up deep within her. Like a constant twinge down between her legs, his kiss to her was stronger than it ever had been before. Lust was beginning to magnify the intensity between them so much that she found her hands snaking around his neck and through his hair, gently fisting the long soft locks for that desperate need.

His tongue slid against hers with a skill like a cowboy with his lasso, sliding his hands around her waist to pull her onto him. Firm strong hands that held her caringly and wanting nothing more than to urge her to sit closer against him, did not expect for her to crawl over his lap and straddle him in the most compromising position yet.

By wearing leggings, Hermione felt no shame in her new position. Her only thought was how driven she was to be as close to him that instant and by the gentle sliding of his hands traveling from her waist down over her rear, she got her answer with a subtle squeeze of appreciation.

This made the small little burning fire within her strengthen as she tried as hard as she could to sate herself with his fevered kisses and the feel of his panting breath against her cheek when they'd pull away momentarily. Connected finally like two horny school children, they couldn't help but feel like two lovers in a forbidden story that couldn't get enough of each other. A long road traveled to as far as they had, but it was something within both of them that wanted this moment to rock, to grind and to paw as much as was going to be allowed.

His strong masculine hands slid over her rear that without thinking, he firmly grasped her and abruptly pulled her closer against him. She pushed against his belt buckle between her legs, forcing herself to push against his most tender spot.

Hermione gasped away out of their kiss, her lips still parted and her eyes low and wanton. She didn't want to admit how good it felt to feel him rock hard against the thin layer of her cotton leggings. It was almost enough to lose her state of mind, after hearing what could only sound like a growl after the prospected thrust and she drank of him even more than what she had. Taking advantage of good, old-fashioned carnal lust, she was finally allowing herself to let go of the consequences and quench her own desired lust for Sirius she could no longer push away.

Hermione looked down at Sirius, her head tilting fondly to the side, letting her brown locks fall partly into her face romantically. Her eyes scanned over his handsome young face, letting a single finger slide under his jaw line. She admired the way his skin was fresh and not a laugh line on it, but those were some of the things she'd missed. Seeing Sirius now, this close, reminded her that he still had an entire life to lead ahead of him. He didn't know about the pain of losing a best friend, he didn't know what it was like to be exiled from all that you trusted and he didn't know love. He knew brotherly love, but had he ever experienced love from a woman so deep and so rich that you would have, yet, another thing to die for?

"Life should be endured."

Remus had said and his simple words repeated in Hermione's mind like a mantra to follow. He was right. Life was too short and not valued enough. If being with Sirius at that moment made things better, if it improved both their ways of thinking in the future, then so be it.

So be it that she found his lower lip absolutely delicious and the way he growled quietly into her ear was a turn on. She loved how her body shuddered uncontrollably to his touch, knowing full well that he wasn't going to be able to unleash the darker animal against her...just yet.

She felt like they were becoming as one, though still closed, the dynamic drive to escalate their passion was quickly enhancing to undiscovered levels. Over and over again, Hermione allowed him to slide his tongue with hers like he needed her simply for hydration. She loved that he wanted her, loved the way his hands were becoming freer and freer with her, that she no longer was holding onto the strings of the qualms she had against their getting together.

Instinctively, and out of need, she very subtly began to grind her hips against him. This alone made him grip her tighter, pausing her almost out of surprise that she'd actually moved or instigated anything remotely sexy between them.

She'd had her share of young fumbling boyfriends never having gotten the mood right with her, making the make-out act more of a chore or a requirement in order to progress the relationship. But, with Sirius, it was almost beginning to feel untamed, pleasurable even with the subtle touches and now teasing. She wasn't even remotely surprised when she started to feel his fingers slinking up under her mesh shirt and up under her tank top; he was well versed in the subtleties of the art.

The sound of cotton and fleshing moving together in slow passionate strokes provoked Hermione's inner hunger to feel his bare skin. She loved the way his face, hair and neck felt under her fingers, but her slow climbing wall of passion needed to feel him more. Her searching hands slid down his firm chest and over his flat belly between them, never once breaking away from their kiss. Very slowly, as if she were opening up the first beginning ribbons of a long awaited present, she slid her hands, palms flat, under his shirt s that she could actually feel the taut muscles she had only seen.

Like velvet over her hands, his skin was nothing she'd ever felt before. Smooth, slight hair, with a slightly coarse feeling from being out in the sun shirtless or just bare from being a dog. It made her gasp in the kiss, breathless against his lips, wanting nothing more than to slow down and enjoy the feeling.

Sirius had been felt by many women, fast women, slow women, virginal women and some women that had no more on their mind than to just fuck for the entire evening. Of course, none of them had taken to him the way Hermione had. None of them had taken as long as she and none of them had looked at him with such low lidded eyes, looking like they'd just come, over just a touch on his stomach. This made her special and very exciting.

He was elated with how she took to him. She was taking pleasure in sitting on him, found the ability to slowly stroke against him and in the smallest attempt to take his shirt off, at least he thought, she had already induced a throbbing erection in him.

Shameful that a mere touch had stiffened him, it was just as erotic to think she would make him so easy. "You have the ability to change me for the better, Hermione," he whispered.

Hearing his confession was pushing her further and she continued to raise her hands up his shirt, forcing him to give in and peel it from his body. Once discarded, Hermione looked his taut tanned skin over with hungry eyes, unable to move and unsure what to do. Finally, she placed her hands over his chest, feeling his firm muscles across his upper body and wanting so much to fast forward to all the dirty things they could do together. She bit her lip to think for the first time, how breaking the rules couldn't have felt more right in that moment.

"You've already helped me see and feel things I never thought possible," she replied with traveling eyes.

"Then we were supposed to meet," he said easily. His head leaned against the back of the couch to watch her.

"Or," she swallowed, "We were supposed to be together."

A smile slowly crept over his tempting lips, vulnerable to whatever she wanted to do. He lifted a hand to her cheek and ran his thumb over her swollen pink lips, "I like the way you think, love."

Hermione leaned down to kiss him again; her bangle bracelets clanking together as she gently ran her nails down his firm bare chest.

Sirius praised her with fevered kisses down her neck as he held her body to him, deep nipping kisses where he could leave marks against the exposed skin of her collarbone. He was like a rabid animal against her, nipping and kissing and trailing his tongue up to her earlobe to whisper in her ear.

"I want you," he breathed. His hands around her shoulders and arms like she were his prisoner, "I want you in the worst way, Hermione."

All her senses peaked and she found herself willfully grinding against him in a new rhythm that both were left powerless, but needy. She hugged him close, welcoming the way he kissed any part of her bare skin that was exposed from her sliding shirt of mesh and tank top. He wanted to taste any bit of her that might have been sweet or salty or both, he just needed.

She couldn't help but clench the muscles at her juncture together, in hopes of taking advantage of the grinding. Hearing his pants, the sound of his lips tasting her in the most erotic fashion was torturing her sanity to dangle by a mere thread.

"I bet you say that to all the girls that sit on your lap," she answered practically lost.

"No...no...no," he kissed up the side of her throat, repeating over and over again his one word answer. "I've always thought that about you."

“You speak as if you know something.”

“I am oblivious. But, you were difficult to read, but I only go on instinct,” he said, uninterrupted. He continued to leave love bites along her jaw, around the back of her neck, on her wrists and over and over again on her lips.

“You are nothing like I thought you were," she whispered, hugging him to her bosom. "That's the honest truth.”

He slowed his kisses to look up into her eyes, his dark hair framing his face perfectly, "Not many know me. Very few take the time.”

“Something tells me that you only reveal your true self to a select few. Am I right?”

“Spot on, love,” he said in a grave voice, giving her another chaste kiss. "And as much as I want to continue this with you, we're going to have to stop now if we intend on going to the concert."

Not thinking entirely clearly, her mind still fuzzy from the whirl of emotions within her, she couldn't help but test herself, "What if we didn't go to the concert?" Hermione leaned down, hugging her arms around his neck and leaving slow circles with her tongue just under his earlobe.

He growled deeply, flattening his hands over back and letting her loose tendrils tickle his arms, "Well, as it stands, I'm already going to need a few minutes before I can move again. But, to answer your question, that wouldn't be good. Stubby has my new Floo, so he'd likely show up and make a lot of noise," Sirius threatened. "He's done it before."

"Oh," she sighed, slowly pushing herself up away from him, thoroughly beaten.

She started to slide herself to the side of him, leaving one leg still stretched across his lap, when he quickly reached for her hands not letting her go too far. "And," he began, "If you let me finish what you just started..."

He kissed her hard, his lips wet and caressing, leaving her weak against his advances.

"...then, we might just have a long night ahead of us." Sirius took the liberty of letting go of a hand and brazenly fondling her left breast, "And believe me, we don't want to be interrupted."

As he stood up, shaking his leg out to readjust in his leather pants from the stiffness that had not yet receded, he left her there stunned and broken like a doll. A quick glance at her as he went to pick up his shirt received a smile that he knew he hadn't stepped over his boundaries...he was breaking down the fence.

**Russian Translation: **You make it so easy, Hermione. I could be whoever you needed me to be. I'm falling in love with you.**

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2009-05-07T19:21:27Z

Reason for Life Ch. 21

2009-05-07T01:33:23Z

A note from Serade Black: Love everyone's theories, truly. They help to see if I'm coming across the way I want to, so keep them up! What does Remus know? Also, thank you for the note on the lack of raccoons. Also, I've been to The Forum in Camden Town (to see Bauhaus), it's since been changed to the HMVForum, so I was unable to see if it existed in 1981. Yes, I'm a patient passion writer. I'm a fan of "Hang on. We're getting there" romances, so thank you to all of those that have stuck by. As for the remarks on the titles, I have to throw you off somehow! Enjoy. ~ SB

REASON FOR LIFE
Ch. 21 - So Little TIme
Rating: NC17 (overall)

Ch. 21 - SO LITTLE TIME

"This Time the Dream's on Me" by Glenn Miller played loudly on the record player, crackling quietly to show the age of the record. Keeping a slow tempo, Sirius and Hermione remained to be the only couple next to Andromeda and Ted in the center of the living room. Swaying to the beat of the oboe solo, Sirius held Hermione close, but appropriate.

He had a hand placed low her back as his other hand cradled hers close to his chest. Her arm relaxed around his neck, her fingers lightly playing with the collar of his jacket. Together their foreheads were joined at the temples as both of them allowed themselves to be swept up in the tranquil moment of their dance. They were oblivious to everything around them, except for the company they kept. The world was at bay outside hidden windows and the wind picked up around the house, protecting them from the elements. Evil was lurking just over the horizon, Halloween was hovering over her and still, they couldn't be bothered.

James and Lily were packing their baby things while Peter was looking shifty, but really it was probably just indigestion from all the meatballs he had consumed. Remus was mostly quiet through the evening; at least he was towards Hermione. He'd shared a few quiet glances in her direction, but nothing more than small talk when they'd switch partners.

Hermione still couldn't help but feel slightly on edge. It did help that Sirius was at her side for most of the night; his presence around her offered a sense of peace in the nightly activities. Though it was never discussed what their next step was, for Hermione it was inevitable that she had succumbed to her own desired need. However, when she heard the ticking of a clock it was a sad reminder that the end was near.

As was the sweet coddling family of three standing by the doorway discussing private things over a slumbering, now very sleepy baby Harry. Lily was whispering low to her husband, glancing back at the remaining room guests and then back to James. With a wave of good night and a peck from her husband, Lily went out the back door and touched the fourth ceramic gnome on her right to go home by herself.

James returned to the living room, clapping his hands and rubbing them together. He looked around the room to his three best mates and opened his arms, "Pub?"

"No way!" Sirius barked; his ears perked like someone had just blown the silent dog whistle.

"Absolutely, Padfoot. Lily said I need a night out with the boys, so I'm taking the offer and running. Who's with me?"

At first Sirius beamed with excitement, as if mischief was twinkling in his eye like a long lost friend. But, as he remembered whose back he was lightly scratching, the twinkle went to a dull shine and he glanced over at his date.

Hermione looked back at him stunned; surprised that he was watching her carefully and hopeful. She hadn't thought of it from their prospective, just her own sheltered one that didn't appear that she was Sirius's current standing girlfriend. At least, in their eyes she was. Parting her lips and looking around the room as if all eyes were on her, even Andromeda's, she broke into a smile.

"You don't have to ask me, Sirius." she said, as if her opinion truly did not matter.

He leaned over so only she could hear and with a definite nod, he said very clearly, "Yes, I do."

His intensity was almost too much for it was obvious to him that her opinion did matter. She mattered to him. Her presence next to him, the way he held a hand on her shoulder, her back, his look and his overall possessiveness around her was beginning to help her deduce that she was, suffice it to say, his girlfriend.

In a blur, Sirius took her home, kissed her good night three times, and left her to go out pubbing with the guys. The original Marauders back together, prowling around London and different wizarding parts that even she hadn't discovered yet.

Meanwhile, she was still standing in the foyer of Professor McGonagall's house absorbing what all had transpired that evening. Her brain had felt like it had been put into overdrive, performing damage control and preparing herself for more of her mission to become exposed. Like the rewind button on a film, the scene in which her Time Turner slipped out of her blouse and dangled in front of Harry long enough for Remus to see it kept replaying over and over in her head. She remembered the way he looked at her after she tucked it away and the lack of conversation from Remus. His silence was beginning to make her anxious.

But, on the upside of all dark things, she was realizing why she hadn't pulled the plug on the entire thing. Sirius. Young Sirius and the potential that he still existed in the Sirius she knew in her own time. What he liked, what he didn't like, the way he dressed, the way he thought, all of these things were the seed of what he was back at home. Granted, time and prison had taken its toll on him, but there was no reason why he couldn't enjoy life again the way he used to. And with her help.

Hermione changed into her nightgown and slipped into bed. She left a window open in the guest room she slept in, to hear any outside sounds, including that barking dog that seemed to give her more peace at night. On the second floor, she felt safe with having it open as the clouds began to come in more and more, indicating that the storm wasn't too far behind or that evil was strengthening not too far away. Regardless, the end was near for said evil for the first around, even at the cost of a good young family, trust and an innocent man's life.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

"Here ya go, love," Sirius said as he left some muggle money on the bar. He couldn't resist a wink to the older bar mistress with the long graying hair.

He managed to balance four mugs of beer frothing over their tops in two hands, wishing that he could take out his wand and carry them properly. He maneuvered around some vacant chairs, finally reaching the table with Peter, Remus and James all sitting and watching him while they were on the brink of cracking a smile. Setting the beers down in the center, a small bit splashing over, each wizard reached for one as Sirius surveyed the dodgy muggle bar.

"I dunno James," Sirius began as he fell into the worn out chair with a thud. "This has got to be the shadiest muggle pub you've taken us too, yet." He shook his head and reached behind to take his wand out from his back pocket to tuck it safely into the inside pocket of his jacket, "And that's coming from me!"

"Why do we come to these, again?" Peter asked while taking a sip of his beer and leaving a white mustache on his upper lip from the foam.

"Lily thinks it's safer to go to unknown places, but really I think the number of supporters on our side is up. If anyone were to truly try anything, I think more witches and wizards than you think would step up," James said, licking his upper lip so that he didn't look like his mate that sat across from him still oblivious.

"Speaking of witches-" Sirius started before his company erupted into a circle of groans, each slapping the table hard with their fists.

"Who had three minutes with a beer?" James looked to Remus and Peter; his palm open and curious.

"What's that?" Sirius whined as the three men continued to groan and shake their heads.

"We each had a wager," James began, "How long it would take before you started to talk about your bird. Remus had less than five minutes, I guessed that you would wait until we were ready to leave and Peter just said, 'what bird'. Sorry mate!" James then reached into his pocket and handed over two galleons to Remus's winning open hand.

"Sirius, the next round is on me, mate," Remus said with a smirk, pocketing his money.

"Oh, you gits!" Sirius barked, slumping down in his chair defeated. He reached for a peanut and chucked it across the table at Remus.

"Sorry mate, you made it too easy. You never talk about witches, and then when you get a good one, you start opening up. It's just your nature," James excused, patting his friend on the back, trying to win him over.

Sirius nodded, hating to admit it was a good joke on his behalf, but pretended to remain buttoned-lipped about any future "feelings".

"No, Sirius, go on. You seem otherwise befuddled by this witch, go on," Remus suggested, eager to hear Sirius's take on her.

Sirius rested his elbows on the table, his hand still on the handle of his beer mug, "I don't know, it's just that this witch is..."

"Different?" Remus asked, his eyebrow curved and curious.

"Very. I can't place it, but it's nice. It's not a normal formula for me-"

"-We know."

"-We've noticed."

"-No kidding."

All three of them chimed in with their own opinions at the same time that Sirius was almost afraid to continue. He was also afraid that he might take his wand back out and hex one of them if they said something smart again.

"Anyway, I guess I'm asking if...if it's normal...to fall in love with a girl even if you haven't..."

"Shagged her?" Peter chirped, trying to add his two cents.

"Nice, Wormtail," Remus drawled, giving his friend a side glance.

"Well, that too," Sirius added, not totally taking out Peter's answer. It was just that he was finding it difficult to finish his train of thought; his mind was a mental mess. He was truly opening up to his closest mates to an unfamiliar territory that they'd only gone through with James a few years ago. "I just haven't felt like this before and I have to admit that it's so foreign to me that I'm not quite sure what to do with it. It's all very consuming."

James nodded to Sirius, wishing for words of wisdom to come to him but instead he relied on the good old faithful toast, "Well brother, I don't know what we can tell you on that. So, here's what I can do. To Sirius. May he find the right way to go, so that he can finally make sense of his bird."

"Cheers," they said in unison, knocking back most of the contents of their chilling mug.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

She was deep into a sleeping trance, her bed covers tucked under her arm. Her face turned more into the soft pillow as she dreamt deeper and deeper, letting her body take a lighter shape in the bed that she slept in. Feeling as light as a feather, her sanity grounding once more, she barely felt the bed shifting next to her. Her slumber began to lighten, but she did not open her eyes. Soon, she felt an arm snake under hers and hold tightly against a slender body that lay above the covers behind her...

Sirius sunk against her, the outline of her body under the covers his guide. The casing comforter was puckered protectively around her like the wake of an ocean. She was a near perfect sight to observe, wishing that the darker parts of his erotic story told a different tale.

He had removed his boots downstairs so she wouldn't hear him coming up them and his jacket was thrown over the vanity stool. The rest of him was, regrettably, clothed and restrained in denim. But, he was still able to enjoy the sensation of she being spooned close, her back to his chest. His hand curled over hers as he nestled his face into her soft wavy locks that pooled around her head like an angel.

The gentle caressing from his nose and chin around the back of her neck made Hermione rouse just a bit out of a deep slumber. Still not opening her eyes, fearful that her dream would be lost, the only indication that she knew it was Sirius was with a slight tilt of her head to encourage him to keep on feather kissing her exposed neck and shoulder.

The breeze blew in from outside, cooling her skin where he'd just kissed making her shiver. He hugged her tighter, the cotton of the comforter and sheet their only chaperone.

"How did you get in?" she whispered dazed. She still had not completely awoken...

"Your back door was open," he calmly answered.

With a sweet knowing smile, she remembered the doggy-door and whispered, "Liar."

With a deep sigh against her neck, nothing would make him want her more than to have her know what he really was. "You're right," he started, his lips pressed against her skin as he spoke but moved to gently nip her earlobe as he whispered into it, "I'm an Animagus."

Her dream was taking her beyond reality and with fluttering eyelids she just answered, "I know."

Smiling more for himself, Sirius left three more small kisses on her neck before nuzzling his nose into her hair to drift off to her fresh scent of jasmine and midnight air.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

The sun's warm rays basked the room with light by mid-morning. Through the nearby window, two small birds chirped their song in hopes of carrying on a steady conversation. In the distance, a dog could be heard barking from its backyard and that's when the guest in McGonagall's house started to stir.

Hermione turned her face into her pillow, taking in the fresh clean scent of laundered linen. She could remember her enticing dream vividly. Sirius had come inside the house through the doggy door after he had transformed into his Animagus form. He then came up the stairs and slid onto the bed next to her, spooning her tight and close. Not once did he move from holding her, as if she were a favorite pillow one would sometimes hug. He left slow light kisses under her ear and they shared a few sentences between one another. He also confessed his talent, but in her half slumbered state acknowledged that she already knew that.

She loved the smell of him around her, loved the way he delicately held her, and loved the way he felt so real around her body in the middle of the night. Her skin felt so alive, her heart was beating at a strong romantic pace and the way her eyes fluttered as she pictured him in her mind looking at her through his hanging black locks was enough to almost believe that he was real.

Hermione stretched her arms above her head like a large cat that had napped all day on the couch. She yawned wide and closed her eyes in her mental stretch. She pushed the covers off her body and sat up with her feet dangling over the side of the bed. Just as she was about to get up, something caught her eye in her peripheral vision and she glanced over at the vanity table by the door.

Still bundled together, bound by a beautiful black ribbon with silver threading was a deep red bouquet of freshly cut roses. They weren't placed in a vase, not packaged in a box by a florist, but just wild, picked and bound up with a delicate bow. They lay neatly across her table so that she could not miss them. They were so stunning that Hermione's lips parted long enough to believe that perhaps it wasn't a dream. Maybe Sirius was really there lying next to her and then gone before the sun had come up.

Just wow.

That entire afternoon, Hermione stayed in. She glanced up at the clock as it chimed four times, echoing in the hallway with the capacity of Big Ben. Around her she had miscellaneous books and notes, some on the Time Turner journey she was on, some on the aftermath of ripples in time and one very heavy romance novel she felt she needed a little inspiration from. Of course, that was honestly just a guilty pleasure and the idea of anyone having sex on a hilltop with no one to see them was just unheard of. However, the sneaking curiosity of whether or not the logistics of having sex on the back of a motorcycle could ever be achieved plagued her mind whenever she wondered where Sirius was and why he hadn't owled her by now.

Her Quick Quotes Quill hung above her notebooks waiting to dictate, but as her mind began to drift elsewhere, it took the liberty of tickling her nose to put her back on track.

She rubbed her nose immediately, "Okay, okay! Hey, you haven't even been invented yet, so behave. Where was I? Right...it's been proven that a sudden reaction to electricity can-" her voice stopped in mid sentence as she heard a mechanical rumbling coming up the street. It got louder and soon it abruptly stopped in front of her house. She immediately tossed her book to the side, grabbed her Quill to hide it in her bag and stacked some books away as quickly as she could. She knew that engine, she knew those tires stopping and she knew his keys jingling into his pocket.

Hermione flew to the front door, taking a moment to glance in the mirror to give herself a once over. Without hesitation, her heart beating faster, she threw open the door to see him just coming up the steps and taking no time for a greeting. He pushed himself through the threshold and took her face in his hands to come at her like a man that hadn't drank water in days.

Quenching his need for her, he kissed her long, deep and hard and all Hermione could do was let him.

Her arms were beginning to feel as weak as flower stems, hanging to her sides limp like she had no will to move. She managed to muster enough strength to lift her hands to slide up thin leather jacket and grip them as a last defense. She could smell his musty scent of outside air on him from his ride and his feathery long locks tickled her cheeks. Even though she knew in the back of her mind she breaking so many rules...to hell with them. She missed him!

Finally, air was no longer a second thought and she pulled away, still gripping onto his jacket and he still holding her tight in his clutches.

"Where have you been?" she asked with a light voice. Seeing him made her heart flutter without even giving it a second thought. It was inevitable.

"Busy. Ran into an old friend by surprise," he smiled as he looked down at her. He tilted his head back further admire her smiling up at him. It warmed his insides greatly that she was pleased to see him.

"Why didn't you stay this morning? I woke up and you were gone - you were here, right?"

He smiled and nodded, "Yes, of course I was. Why? Did you think-"

"-I thought I had dreamt it," she finished for him.

"Oh, well," he knocked his head back cocky, "I've been known to be quite a dream, they say."

"Oh, there you go again with that modesty."

He sniffed proudly, "A trait I hope to carry on my entire life."

She nodded back, "Oh, don't worry, you will."

He leaned in to kiss her again before finally closing the door with a swift kick of his boot. "Anyway, get your bag. I've got a surprise for us tonight and we've got to stop by my place to get ready."

Hermione glanced down at her notes and saw that her work was hastily scattered all over the coffee table. She went ahead of him into the sitting room, going about closing notebooks and stacking up heavy ancient encyclopedias that Sirius would probably shrug off anyway, but it was the principle of the point that she didn't need any more exposure than what she may have already risked. It was just that morning when she was thinking back of the dream she thought she had, realizing that it had been real, that Sirius had told her he was an Animagus. Her foolish half-asleep reply was that she knew. She needed to be more careful in the next couple of weeks.

"What's the surprise?

"Well, I was cruising through Camden today, that's where I usually buy my band t-shirts, and I heard this awful racket. I asked a few nearby what it was, the muggles of course, and they just told me that The Forum was undergoing some inside repairs. Then I got to thinking, I only know one group that takes over a theatre for a night and then jumbles the owner's memories...The Hobgoblins," he said, expecting a huge reaction by his elaborate storytelling.

Hermione drew a blank, but then remembered reading something about the lead singer, a turnip, and a fan, "Wait, you mean Stubby Boardman's group? But, I thought they-"

"Disbanded, yes!" he said with more enthusiasm. "Stubby was a bit freaked out about that turnip thing, but he's right with it now." He was like a child on Christmas morning telling how he saw Santa Clause. "So, I pulled up and went in."

Hermione wasn't too impressed, but the way he lit up with excitement just elated her. She had no choice but to act surprised, even if the Hobgoblins were before her time.

"Well, Stubby saw me and it was like old times, again."

"You know Stubby Boardman?" she asked, a hand on her hip and a finger pointing as if she believed he was pulling one over on her. She recollected a story in the Daily Prophet about a fan that claimed that Sirius was actually Stubby Boardman and that's why he was innocent of the Potter murders.

"Yes. Now you're impressed aren't you?" he played. Her lack of excitement was a great disappointment at first, until he got to the heart of the issue. "Showed no interest in it until I said I knew him, did ya?" He walked passed her to sit down on the couch, his feet thrown on the coffee table and his arms behind his head looking quite relaxed and arrogant. He was glistening with the knowledge of knowing a celebrity.

Hermione couldn't help but let off a little laugh, enough to see that he really was milking the issue. He was adorable with the way he snubbed his nose at her and pretended to file his nails on his shirt.

"Sirius, really?"

"I do know him, he's an old friend. We used to chase muggle girls together-," he stopped, catching himself. His fingers no longer filing, but his eyes glancing up at her for potential damage control. "I mean, we used to share the same interests!"

Hermione crossed her arms in front of her and nodded knowingly, "Right. So, what's the rest of the story?"

He grinned and winked, "That's for another time. Anyway, Stubby is having a private concert tonight and said that he tried to find me, but I'd moved from my old place - James's - and lost my floo address. He was so chuffed I was riding by that we had a couple of beers and then he dragged my ass to the guest list and made them put my name down with a guest."

"And you're not taking James or Remus?" she baited with a raised eyebrow. She still loved the fact he was trying to look so arrogant, as if he were balancing a crown over his big head.

Sirius scowled, "No way. They don't like that sort of music; it's too hard for them. They're not into that punk scene. But, no, the rule with Stubby is that I'm always on his guest lists, always VIP passes, I can get my mates in, but I must always have a girl with me." He winked again and bit his lip. His boots wiggling excitedly, "Just his rules, not mine."

Hermione slowly grinned as she was getting to the bottom of the plan, "His rules, huh? Okay, well I hate to break it to you, but I'm not really that familiar with the Hobgoblins."

"Not familiar with the Hobgoblins? Where have you been, love, under a rock? They're only the biggest wizarding band of all time," he was utterly shocked that she did not know their music as well. "What do you listen to and if you say Celestina Warbeck then there is no way I'm putting out later."

Hermione went stiff with the very idea, not that it hadn't been on her mind all day that day, especially with the question of the motorbike fantasy, but her cheeks started to blaze.

"Ah, there's my Rose, again!" he said, standing up.

Hermione sensed that he was about to tease her further, enough to back away slowly and consider running out the door. The look in his eye was that of a playful tiger about to spring and she held her arms at bay.

"Am I making you nervous?" he innocently played. The sound of her giggling was enough to bait him more, luring him into her as she backed away cautiously.

"Sirius, stay! Don't come any closer," she playfully threatened. She secretly harbored the tease of the chase, hoping that he would follow her, but her nerves got the best of her and she took off running around into the kitchen where she felt him close on her heels and within his grasp.

"Granger, you can't get away," he barked taking off after her as she aimed for the backdoor he knew too well by the doggy-door installed near the floor.

She screamed with laugher as she managed to get the backdoor open and dashed down the few steps to the secluded garden surrounded with a tall white fence, where wild flowers grew and butterflies made their homes. She glanced behind her when she realized that her space was limited and trying to escape through the backdoor had not been a well thought out plan.

When she reached her dead end, not too far from the backdoor, she turned around and pushed her back against the wooden fence. Her arms were in front of her, a meek attempt to protect her from whatever he was coming in to do. A pathetic attempt at a game gone wrong, but secretly desiring him to just pick her up and ravage her there. At least, that's what those romance novels were encouraging her to wish.

His big grin was mischievous, his eyes a dark twinkle and as he closed the space between them, his hands extended around her to pin her to the fence. He closed her in, pressing her against the wooden fence and with no place to go but back against him. He purposely pressed his belt buckle against her stomach, showing her that she was teasing the wrong man. He'd played her game until now, pinning her defenselessly between a wooden barrier and himself.

"I love the game you want to play, love," he said darkly with a low hungry voice like the Big Bad Wolf. He was tainted with enticement, knowing that his objective was not to really frighten her, but to make his intentions clear. "However, after so long, the mean dog might need to get his just reward."

Hermione's breath escaped her. There was not one piece of her that was scared, only tempted. His aura was so strong; it encompassed her like a steel cell with nowhere to go. His walls were closing in on her and she welcomed it. She welcomed him. The secret desire for him that she was trying to suppress was seeping out like water through cracks in a dam. At first they were contained, governed, but soon the wear on her was beginning to weaken and the slow seduction he had played for her all this time was beginning to win, leaving her in a frazzled emotional mess.

"I love to hear your voice, but I love it even more when I've driven you speechless," he growled, the closeness of his lips teasing her like drugs to a recovering addict. He would come in close to kiss her, but as she went in, he would pull away to tease her, never touching her lips.

"Sirius..." she couldn't say anything more. The air around her was thin and it made her mind spin uncontrollably. The anticipation of a kiss was breaking her down, forcing her to restrain herself from being irrational. However, her need for him was ever increasing.

"I get a warm chill every time you say my name, love," he whispered as if it were a hidden secret only for her. "You emphasize every syllable in all the right places that makes my name sound so perfect, that I only want you to say it. It jives me to a new depth that even I question it." His need for her was beginning to reach dangerous levels.

She was absolutely melting there before him as he pinned her against the wooden fence in the middle of the day with only the flowers and butterflies as their witnesses. How he could make a fall day so erotic was beyond her, but it would make her look forward to this season in the future.

"I love to see your cheeks blush when I flirt with you," he continued. His voice made his words sound like an enchanting spell she could not deflect.

"You are," she started; her voice sounded like a mouse about to sing before clearing her throat. "You have been the only one that's been able to do it."

His alluring lips pulled into a rather pleasing smirk. His eyes darted all over her face as if small sparks were going off in his head that he had finally neared the finishing line of winning his personal challenge with her. Far from the test of his own self-assurance, he had discovered that his old ways of luring a girl weren't exactly the way he should have gone in order to produce such spectacular results. Hidden behind stacks of books, notes and knowledge was a precious jewel in his eye that made him rethink his normal stereotype girl he thought he wanted. Had he known then, what he knew now, he would have looked for girls in the library and not at James's old quidditch after parties.

He moved in slowly and cupped his hands around her neck to keep her still to leave a single, solid kiss against her waiting lips. Keeping it simple and intense, it wasn't necessary to slip his tongue, just a passionate, warm erotic kiss that left the two of them absolutely dazed and wanting.

"Get your things, love," he whispered, nearly out of breath himself. "We have to go."

The Big Bad Wolf was letting Little Red Riding Hood go.

Nodding, she quietly slipped out of his grasp like both of them were absolutely bewildered to do anything else and she left him alone to his thoughts. Both of them needed space, believing they had just wrapped themselves so tightly around one another that it was almost too much for one moment. This was what passion was. This is what literary geniuses wrote about when it came to love and this, sadly, is what people died for. And as far as they got was with a single still kiss.

She was doomed.

In a blink, Hermione ran upstairs to freshen up. She had no idea what to wear for a Hobgoblins concert, hearing Sirius say it was "punk", so she settled on a tank top, hoodie, blue jeans and her Converse trainers. Simple, but basic and not time revealing.

She returned downstairs, swinging around the banister and looking about the sitting room to see if he'd come back inside yet. He had, but he was standing in the little cottage kitchen, hovering over her open book bag. His shoulders had slouched and he appeared to be looking at something he held in his hand.

"Sirius?" she asked warily, her breath shallow. She was worried that he'd seen something he shouldn't have.

In his fingers he had a picture. It must have been something that had fallen out as she was quickly stacking her books. His eyes were transfixed on it, his face was emotionless and far from the passionate animal she saw lingering before her in the back garden.

"Is this him?" he asked, slowly lifting his head and handing her the picture. His voice was sad almost, sorrowful even.

With big eyes and a lump in her throat she couldn't swallow, she hesitantly reached for the picture. Not as bad as she had anticipated, but she now was holding a picture of her standing behind Ron, with her arms draped around his shoulder. A picture taken a few years ago, when they were happier, but it was obviously recognized as a loving couple picture with the way the two laughed and smiled. It must have been being used as a bookmark in one of her books she had overlooked.

Sirius shoved his hands in his pockets and looked away, hoping to lighten his thoughts. He slowly walked passed her, a forlorn look was pasted on his face.

"Ah, yes," she nodded, staring at the picture having not seen it for a long time. She reflected for a moment that the picture was taken in much happier times and this just a mere shadow of it. Still, she tucked it deep down in her bag, not ready to tear it up yet. After all, she and Ron still remained to be friends.

"You look really happy," he said solemnly. There was a hitch in his throat that sounded quite disappointed and let down.

"I was," she added, looking away. How was she to explain it?

He shook his head as he paced a few steps away from her, before turning around. He wondered if he even deserved to feel what he did just a few moments ago. Like his head was just beginning to come above the surface and he could breathe again, he would cherish fleeting moments like the one he just experienced in the back garden of Professor McGonagall's house.

"If I took you away from something good, please tell me. It's not like me - actually, it is like me, but in this case, I don't want it to be."

Hermione stilled, her eyes unable to meet his. She felt like a big spotlight was hovering over her, displaying all her flaws and making her feel so out of place; she could say nothing.

"Sirius, I..." she was unsure how to say exactly what she meant. So, she stuck to the truth, "You didn't take me away from anything. He and I...we separated awhile ago and you...you just helped me see a little bit more clearly."

Hearing what he wanted brought a small bit of peace to mind. Allowing him the strength to look at her and not with guilty eyes. "I hope so, because-"

"But, in truth-" she cut him off.

Her eyes stared nervously at her hands in front of her. Even though she wanted so badly to be with him and enjoy those close intimate moments every chance she got, she couldn't help but let the picture of she and Ron plagued her thoughts. Having nothing to do with their actual relationship that lasted over three years, but allowing it to be a reminder that this was not her time. She was not allowed to feel what she felt towards Sirius, because he was a different man. The same in some aspects, yes, but the very idea of the two of them together now would hurt terribly in the future. How could she allow herself such carnal pleasures now, if in the future, they would have to go about their lives separately? What good would it do if she tasted the forbidden fruit, never to have it again? Would she allow herself such a painful luxury? Knowing what it would be like to fall in love with him, possibly have him love her back and then in the future they go about the house, their lives, knowing what could never be? Who would want to take that gamble?

"But, what, love?" he asked. His voice reminded her that she was still standing there with him, the younger version of him.

"But, I don't think I'm what you're looking for. I'm not who you think I am."

Seeing her mouth falling into the same disappointed frown he first held when he first saw the picture, made him walk back to her. Smelling her perfume was easily luring him back in again, to a frame of mind he had forgotten about for the last few minutes, but was quickly coming back full force. He raised a hand to cradle her cheek and then slid it down around her throat.

"Are you just a figment of my imagination?" he asked, his thumb sliding along her jaw line.

She shook her head as she lifted her eyes to his, "No."

"Are you married?"

"No."

"Are you secretly plotting to tear off all of my clothes?"

Her lips curved into a smile and she had to lie, "No."

"Then you are so very right. You're not at all what I'm looking for."

She needed to fall.

Even if it meant never having it again.

Reason For Life Ch. 20

2009-05-04T12:34:03Z

Title: Reason For Life
Ch. 20: Succumbing to the Inevitable
Sirius/Hermione
Rating: PG - NC17

Ch. 20 - Succumbing to the Inevitable

The light splashing of water over brightly painted dishes was almost too distracting, that Hermione hardly heard the doorbell ring. She immediately picked up her wand as it lay next to her on the counter and murmured a charm to allow the dishes and sponge to finish the few bowls left in the sink. She had been so preoccupied lately, that simple chores were beginning to get away from her, like cleaning dirty breakfast plates.

She swiveled around on her heel, her pale blue skirt floating around her knees as it caught the wind in her rushed steps. Her flats tapped along on the old wooden floor between the kitchen and the small living room like an eager tap dancing spider. Her haste had worked her up, so she found herself forcing a deep breath in order to calm down before opening the front door. She rolled her shoulders back, taking one more small breath and composing herself to not act so childish.

She bit her tongue and turned the old metal knob to reveal a vision she had yet gotten used to. Leaning on his elbow so that he could first catch a glimpse of her when the door opened a mere two inches, his head was bent low, his eyes looked up from under straying wild black locks. Dressed in blue jeans, dusty brown boots, black t-shirt and maroon velvet blazer, he was nothing short of a male model about to walk on the runway with a charming bit of roughness about him.

Losing herself in the senescence of him she sighed and by the sinister grin playing over his lips, she knew she didn't hide it well.

He took the liberty of allowing himself in and closing the door for her with a slight kick of his boot. He placed his hands on either side of her upper arms, gripping her gently as his eyes surveyed her innocent attire of off-white cardigan and floral top. Though her airy knees-length skirt would normally deem easy access if his naughty mind came into play more violently, he could only shake his head and chuckle under his voice.

"Sweetheart," he started with a slight shake of his head, noticing how hopeful she looked at him, "We don't match."

Before she had a chance to argue, he pulled her in so tight that her arms were forced to rest around his neck as he went in to kiss her like the cover of a romance cover. Enough to lift her onto her tippy-toes and take her very last breath from her lungs. She felt light as a feather and lost in a pleasant darkness with him; the sounds of the house around them were going completely silent until he pulled away from her to breathe.

"...and I like it that way," he concluded, releasing her ever so slowly.

Feeling Sirius's grip on her loosen was like feeling the seatbelts release at the end of a rollercoaster: relieved, but still a let down that makes you want to do it again.

Without stopping for a pint in the Leaky Cauldron, Sirius held Hermione's hand tightly, not taking the time to glance around and see if there were any of his past dates lingering around. The last time he stopped in there with her on such a night, she made him feel like a right git, but in the end, it was worth it. It paved the road for Sirius to believe that Hermione was truly interested.

Her thoughts strayed away to her own time. Visions of Sirius in his perfectly tailored threads of velvet and silk, lounging away in the study engulfed in a period drama of war and prejudice. Her thoughts lingered over the way their hands fit perfectly within each other, fingers sliding against the others'; a sly attempt at strolling intimacy.

Their steps fell in unison as they strolled up the vacant sidewalks the lined closed stores. A few tinkering sounds could be heard down the alley towards Knockturn, keeping them both on alert.

"Thank you for coming with me, again," he said, giving her hand a light squeeze.

"I had a nice time, last week. Thank you for inviting me," she added non-chalantly. Her eyes glanced down the dark path ahead of them looking for the swinging broken portkey.

Lately, his glances and stares were beginning to become more and more intense for him, that he almost questioned if she was quietly casting some insignificant spell that made him feel this way. But, when he was lying awake at night, staring at the shadows on the ceiling, he was secretly wishing that he wasn't alone in his big bed. His thoughts turned to prowling at the Leaky Cauldron or a nearby muggle bar he liked to frequent, to see if any of his past conquests had been lively that night, but then he soon realized he didn't want them...he wanted her. Or rather, he wanted them to be her. He wanted Hermione lying there with him, staring at the shadows on the ceilings. It was her bare warmth against him, the smell of her hair and the hypnotic scent of her perfume that fueled his desire for her.

Sirius stopped and turned to face Hermione properly, her hands in both of his. Like a chivalrous knight, he lifted the back of her right hand to his lips and said, "I guess I really want to say is that I'm glad that you are getting to know my friends." He tilted his head to the right, his long locks falling into his sightlines as he prepared himself to continue. "It's only been a short time and I know Remus secretly wishes that he had talked to you first or won you over with some thick encyclopedia, but that's neither here nor there. The thing is I enjoy you, Hermione. I enjoy being around you and please don't flip out when I tell you this, but I'm pretty sure I want to just know you...and not anyone else."

A train could have past behind them and still Hermione would remain unwavering. Like hearing music of the first time, she could only stare at him. Her fun-loving smile slowly sinking into a firm tight-lipped slight grimace that only meant that she was about to panic or run away screaming. Neither one happened, but the state of ease was slowly sneaking away. Her plan was beginning to bottom out and the idea of the Oblivator spell was becoming more and more dire.

...and then she saw that special twinkle in his eye.

That little glistening sparkle that reminded her that Sirius was living for today and not for the rest of his life. He was an icon, an example to follow, to help her realize life was, indeed, too short and life did need to be experienced.

In all reality, she should have run the second he held both of her hands down by their sides and closed the small space between them so that they were sharing the same air. She should have never allowed herself to get wrapped up in him so much and she should not have ever allowed him to kiss her that night a week ago. However, she felt like she was spinning. As if she had thrown her arms out in the air and spun around in a circle, letting the wind lift up her skirt and the breeze blow her hair around in her face. She was closing her eyes, picturing herself floating in the air, never fearful to come down and that was when it hit her.

She was letting herself fall in love with him.

"Sirius, I can't be the right girl for you. That's insane," she suggested, feeling the warm stare of his piercing eyes sinking into her. "The idea of someone like you and someone like me-"

"Hermione, stop analyzing everything for one second. Just let it be," he said so simply. If only he truly knew what he was saying and to whom.

Touched by his sincere effort, she was finding it harder to make-up excuses without telling him the truth. She was already jeopardizing so much; it was almost like playing with matches in a pool of gasoline. Everything was going to come to a head and the outcome of Halloween would still happen, because she couldn't do anything to stop it. She couldn't stop the course of events.

Her shoulders were weighing heavy with thought and she looked away, noticing the rusting detail of a nearby drainage pipe. She almost didn't know what to say, other than the truth, so she colored it with subtle truths.

"Sirius, soon I'm going to have to go home. Back to...," she paused, her eyes meeting his and desperately thinking whether or not she should give it all away now, and save face. "...to America."

Sirius looked away, as if the word "America" was quickly becoming a word he didn't much care for. She tended to drop it around him too often, every time he wanted to get close to her. He squeezed her hands in his, signifying his concern and otherwise sheer annoyance to the reminder.

In silence, he let go of one of her hands, interlacing their joined one and led her to the hanging sign that was the portkey to the Tonks'.

Just like before, the two were transported into the lush garden behind the tattered old two-story house with purple shutters. Stars shone brightly overhead and the half moon illuminated the path up to the screened backdoor.

Without moving an inch, just like before, the backdoor flew open and an elated Andromeda met them with a big smile, enough to see all her teeth, including the filling in the back.

"Sirius! Made it another week, again!" she hugged her cousin tightly, leaving a small kiss on his cheek. Glancing past his shoulder, she was met with a quiet Hermione, but did not hesitate to give her just as warm a greeting. "Hermione, welcome back, love!"

Andromeda stepped back and allowed the couple to come inside, but reached for Sirius's elbow as he passed her after Hermione. Sirius stopped and kicked a foot up as if he was jerked backwards, but quickly reversed his steps as if he meant to fumble.

Once in earshot, Andromeda whispered, "Same girl, right?"

Sirius made a face, as if he was appalled by her accusation. Still, he answered her in a monotone voice, "Yes."

With a pleasing smile, she patted him on the back like a child and said, "Good man, I liked her. Muggleborn, right?"

"Yes."

"You always had good taste, well, at least most of the time you did. I like this one, though. Seems like a smart one. Probably too smart, but not smart enough to run the other way once you get hooked."

"Are we done?" he asked with a dreary tone, not wanting to be drilled and otherwise pretending to be bored.

"Yes, here's your beer, love," she charmed, putting a drink right into her cousin's hand as if it were a treat for putting up with her interrogations.

Hermione had just entered the same big living room as before. A young Nymphadora, Dora, sat curled up in the corner of the couch, with Peter Pettigrew sitting close by her side and reading along with her from a book that lay open in her lap. Both appeared to be quite captivated by the simple reading, appearing harmless and intrigued.

As Sirius came into the room, he laid a hand on the small of Hermione's back and said, "Wormtail mate, good to see you!"

"Hey Padfoot, just catching up on me reading," Peter said, nodding towards the book he and Tonks were sharing.

"You remember Hermione," Sirius re-introduced as he lightly rubbed her back. A sly possessive gesture in his nature.

"Of course, hello again, love," Peter responded, giving her a polite wave of chubby fingers.

Putting on the most pretend smile she could muster without squeezing her knuckles all the way white, she nodded back, "Nice to see you again, Peter."

The lighting in the room was slightly dimmer than before, a few lamp shades had been covered with scarves and the room smelled of scented candles, giving it a more intimate romantic feel about the evening. The contrasting smells wafting in from the nearby kitchen indicated that they were going to enjoy an Italian dish by the eroding scent of garlic.

"Hermione love, would you like a martini like last time?" Andromeda popped in alongside of Sirius. She already had the shaker filled and primed for a "yes" answer. Her bangle bracelets jingling along as she shook the canister.

First glancing towards Sirius and then back to Andromeda she politely smiled and shook her head, "Ah, no. Wine will be fine for me, tonight. Thank you."

With an unenthusiastic shrug she humored, "Oh well, suit yourself. More spirits for me, then!"

She disappeared back into the kitchen and Sirius followed behind her to fetch Hermione a glass of red wine. A normal looking, non ancient glass was returned to her with a deep burgundy liquid that looked harmless. She thanked her companion for getting it for her and sipped carefully along the glass rim, her delicate pinky up.

"What? You don't want your drink to inhibit your actions like last weekend?" Sirius asked, a light tease hindering in his voice. He couldn't resist the opportunity to slide a finger down her soft cheek.

With a slight tilt of the head she said, "No, because last weekend I was tricked."

Stepping in closer, he dipped his head so that his eyes peered up at her from under coy locks, "Oh, you were far from tricked, love. You gave in willingly."

"Only because I was cheated of a fair gamble by a right thief."

"A thief? You're throwing some severe words around there, young witch. Might have to teach you a lesson when I get you home," he teased, giving her a slight wink.

"Well, first one might watch their free tongue with empty threats. Second, I was cheated, but-"

"-you were not cheated!" he barked with a chuckle.

"Let me finish!" she finally chimed in, her free hand resting against his firm chest. "I was cheated, but who is to say that in the end, I didn't just let you win?"

"Because you wanted the prize?"

He'd read her mind and her white flag went up, "Perhaps, I did."

Like making a three year-old happy, Sirius grinned from ear to ear, quite pleased with himself. He looked away to swig his beer as he heard more people arriving through the backdoor.

James and Lily came in together, with James carrying the baby carrier proudly. Remus walked in right behind them, catching the door as it was swinging closed.

From the living room, Hermione could hear Remus's voice and instantly, Dora looked up from her book she was sharing with Peter and waited. Her eyes were fixed on the entry way leading into the kitchen, for she knew that any second Remus would emerge and she would see him.

Just as predicted, Remus came in through the archway wearing jeans, a few extra non fashionable rips, pale beige t-shirt and an unbuttoned sweater. His light brown hair looked windblown and dusty, but it was his smile that lit up the room. Such a sincere man that fell along with Sirius and James...and Peter, but mostly to keep an eye on them.

"Hello, Hermione," he politely said with a slight nod. "Good to see you back here."

"Well, he insisted I come along and I really couldn't say no," she explained, sipping from her wine glass.

"Yes, he's good at that. Nevertheless, it's nice to have another here. Lily was the last one to join us and well, look how that turned out," he said, glancing behind him to see Lily watching over Sirius as he ogled over the playful baby.

"Hi, Remus!" Dora called from across the room. It appeared that she hadn't stopped looking at him and was waiting for a good time to greet him. She was still pinned under the book next to Peter, who appeared to still be reading as it lay open in her lap next to him.

"Excuse me," Remus said as he walked away to sit on the arm of the couch next to her.

Hermione smiled to herself, watching the two make small talk as the third appeared strangely out of place. It was nice to see they had a friendship when she was young, making it all the more poetic later in their lives when they fell in love. It was starting to make more sense over Remus's initial disregard for their relationship. It would take time, but in the end they were going to grow more together than they even had a clue at this moment.

"Hey Hermione!" the Harry look-a-like said as he laid a hand on her shoulder as he passed by her, "Good to see he dragged you back here."

Hermione wasn't sure how to react with everyone's surprise, so she just shrugged her shoulders and thanked James, then Lily, for the welcome. They disappeared into a nearby bedroom to set down the baby carrier, that is if Sirius would stop toying at the baby long enough to let the small child go back to sleep after being poked and prodded by a tickling godfather.

"Let him sleep, Sirius," Hermione said, reaching out for Sirius's arm as he passed her in the baby procession. "The little one needs to sleep!"

Sirius was much obliged to stop at her request, finding a reason to step as close to her as she permitted without taking a step backwards. His eyes were set on her, his lips so primed and perfect, she was tempted to just reach for his shirt and pull him in, but she resisted.

"He has all the time in the world to sleep, love. I just don't want him to miss anything," Sirius said in a rather calm voice. Rather than just excited, the sound of his voice was sincere, like he truly meant what he said and not because it was his nature to be that geared up.

With a slight tilt of her head she smiled up at him, "He won't miss a thing, believe me."

They shared a single moment together in their own little world they were creating. Whispers, glances, hand holding and small kisses all remained a good basis for their foundation and it was moving faster than what either of them were ready for.

With a smirk and a wink, Sirius swigged his beer casually as he turned to follow his accute sense of smell towards the delicious scent of roasting potatoes, leaving her to her thoughts.

As her eyes lingered down his back frame until he disappeared out of sight, Hermione gave herself a mental shake as she gripped her wine glass tighter. More handsome than words could express in fitting denim and tight t-shirts, she could only stare against his throat to his black onyx necklace. His cologne reeked of wealth and good taste, making her knees shiver with the thought of him standing so close to her.

The man was becoming more and more difficult to resist and the more she thought about how much time she had, the more she felt it was racing against her. Just hearing his voice barking from the kitchen around her made her want to look at him, stare at him and then, irresponsibly throw herself into his arms so that he might make her feel like that all the time.

"Well, I give up for now. Thank you, Sirius!" Lily said carrying an empty baby carrier back into the living room. James followed behind her with a very alert and very awake one year old with big green eyes looking around at what he may have been missing.

"What did I do?" Sirius asked, coming back into the room and resting a hand on his hip as if he was surveying a sports game. "Did you bring him back so I could play with him, Lils?"

"No, Sirius," she shook her head exhausted. Her long red hair danced around her shoulders as she placed the carrier down on the floor by the couch at Remus's feet. "He won't go down and if he could speak full sentences, I'm sure he would say, "Mummy, why won't uncle Sirius just leave me alone and let me sleep, because I'm just over a year and I do need my energy."

Sirius chuckled, "No way, he'd say something along the lines of wanting to ride his first little motorcycle-"

"The hell he is! Not until he's thirty!" the overbearing mother playfully snapped.

With a nod towards James, Sirius mumbled, "We'll see." He leaned in close to Hermione's ear, "I'll have that kid on my bike before he's four, watch."

"I heard you," Lily warned, her own green eyes glaring at him with a slight smirk.

Andromeda came out holding a steaming martini glass with the same greenish colored liquid swilling around in her hand like one of Snape's potions finals. "Something I can help with? We could put a little gin in his milk, that will zap him right out."

"Mother!" Dora snapped, appalled at the very idea.

When she realized that all eyes, and grins, were on her Andromeda just shrugged her shoulders and waved a hand in the air non-nonchalantly, "Well, my father did it to me and I turned out all right!"

Once she had vacated the room, Sirius was the first one to speak up, "Yes, and I think we all know the lasting effects it had on my other cousins. Don't take the bottle if she gives it to you, Lily."

With a small giggle, Lily just shook her head and went into the kitchen to find a non-alcoholic beverage, with James quick on her heels to find one that was. Sirius turned and followed his friends, leaving Hermione alone to a sitting Harry.

Remus continued to read along with Dora and Pater. All three of them kept a watchful eye on Harry as he sat talking to himself on the floor saying "da-da" over and over again.

Meanwhile, little Harry had spotted Hermione and reached up for her to pick him up. Instead she hoisted him up on his unsteady little feet and knelt over to coo at him, as the he took insecure steps, already walking like a drunken baby. His pretty green eyes bore into her like she was more fascinating than a balloon and he continued his unsteady steps in her direction as she guided him along. His little hands wrapped around her fore fingers.

More advanced as usual, Harry soon let go of her fingers and walked on his own, showing sheer independency. He smiled and clapped as both she and Remus praised him, but ultimately his balance was teetering and he slid back on his cushy butt, looking up at her forlorn and otherwise disappointed in himself.

"Awe," Hermione cooed, taking pity on the small learning infant. She leaned over to reach under his arms to hoist him back up.

As she was situating her hands under his arms, her long chained necklace with the Time Turner at the end of it slid out from under her shirt, dangling for a full three seconds and catching Harry's eye. As if fire was about to burn the baby, she snatched it up quickly and tucked it back underneath her shirt, looking up to see if anyone noticed; her heart no longer beating.

Peter was still captivated by the pictures in the book, little Dora was reading along with him and pointing out the big words, but it was Remus who had seen the chain.

Like a deer in the headlights, Hermione was a bit uncertain how to continue, but with a chirping baby at her feet wanting her attention again, she was momentarily distracted. She glanced down at the baby and then back up at Remus who said nothing. He only smiled slightly and went back to reading along with Dora.

Her head started to feel like the blood was rushing upwards after her heart finally started to beat again; her pulse rate quickening to a dangerous speed. Harry was using her skirt to lift himself up, tugging wildly for her attention, but was distracted the second his mother returned with a fresh bottle. Sanctuary was coming to her and as she excused herself, Remus watched her turn and rush into the kitchen.

"Sweetheart, you okay?" Sirius asked as she breezed past him in a whirl. He only caught a glmpse of her as she went out the screened backdoor, letting it slam behind her.

"Maybe she's just hungry. We'll eat in ten minutes, Sirius."

"Thanks, Dromeda," he said, setting his beer bottle down on the counter and following Hermione outside.

With a bang of the door behind him, Sirius stepped out into the humid cool night air. With rushing clouds over head, he peered out in the garden to find her. The wind was picking up around him, indicating that a storm was brewing. He looked against the dark evening, past the small gated garden that overflowed with exotic vegetables and flowers and out towards the maze that the two of them raced through.

To his right, he saw her walking slow in the wind, out towards nothing and into the empty field. It didn't appear like she was going anywhere; just slowly walking off whatever it was that had bothered her.

"Hermione?" he called out as he neared her.

She whirled around upon hearing his voice, not at all surprised that he'd followed her. She just needed to get away for a moment and think about all that was about to transpire, had Remus actually seen her Time Turner.

"Sorry, just needed a bit of fresh air. I'm fine," she lied. Her head was swimming with consequences. The pounding in her head of reality was disgruntled and distraught.

"Something happen, love? Harry get fresh in there with you?" he teased, reaching for her shoulder to rest his comforting hand.

His words brought a smile to his face, but she shook her head and looked down towards his brown scuffed up boots that peeked out from the bottom of his jeans, "No, just got a little overwhelmed."

"Oh, they're a right old bunch, they are. They're harmless, even Peter, who I know you don't care for much."

The wind rushed around them like a familiar blanket she knew too well - storm was brewing. Meaning, things were going to get rougher out there and she only had less than three weeks until Halloween.

"No, Sirius, he's fine. You just have a strong group of people that care very much about you and I hope you always know that," she began to reassure. Her mission was beginning to take its toll on her, but even she needed reminding of that.

"That's my family, love. I would die for any of them. Even if Dromeda wants to get Harry sauced up at a young age," he chuckled. This time he felt compelled to place both hands on her shoulders, so that he could rub down her arms and take her hands in his. A sly move when he wanted to pull a girl close to him.

"They really are-"

"Great, I know. You've said that, before. What's really wrong, Hermione?"

Like Eve to the apple, she was tempted to tell him everything that she knew. Tell him why she was there, that she didn't belong, that the way he held her hands would be so inappropriate in the future she wasn't sure where to begin. All that mattered was that Remus had seen her Time Turner and she now risked the gamble of staying and not being "outed" by him. It was a war in her head of whether or not she should confront him or just let it lie and see what pans out.

Regardless, nothing could prepare her for her position now. The way Sirius was exposing his sincere side that she'd never seen before. Only in the last minutes before he fell into the Veil did she understand his true side. How he wanted to not make mistakes, wanted to be there when needed and now, at twenty-one, wanted to know what plagued her mind more than anything and why she'd left one of the happiest places for him.

"Come back in, sweetheart. I can't begin to understand why you feel so overwhelmed, but just know that they are good people in there and I really want you to be a part of that with me."

Oh, he's so on the wrong track.

"It's fine, Sirius," she whispered. She knew the rules, confession was not allowed. "I just keep asking myself if I'm in the right place, sometimes." A trickle of honesty was beginning to come out masked.

"Sorry?"

She took a deep breath, her hands held tightly in his as she stood before him like a Prom date. Slowly, she was building the courage to meet his eyes again. "Do you ever feel like you want to go someplace, be somewhere, for the sake of good? But, when you get there, you begin to realize that you've made a grave mistake?"

"All right, I'm following. Kind of."

She smiled, but it was the sound of his lighter voice that gave her the confidence to look at him, "You really are something, Sirius. I hope you know that."

"Oh, don't worry, I do," he reassured, letting go to brush his hair from his eyes, but quickly replacing her hand.

"Not to mention incredibly modest, as well," she added.

"Oh, I'm humble-pie, love."

Soon, the nervous fluttering was beginning to suppressed itself with the stare of his piercing grey eyes; it was leaving her with the confidence that gave her a bit more courage. "As you get older Sirius don't let that get away from you."

"Why is that?"

"Because, it gives me the courage to do this," and in a blink she threw herself up against him, her arms tightening their hold around his neck and hanging on to dear life to kiss him the way she needed to.

Picturing them united as one, not an inch of space between them, Sirius held her tight against him as he took one supportive step back. He loved the way she initiated it, not giving it a second thought and openly offering herself in the worst way. Feeling the way her body seemed to feed off of him with desire and yearning was a song he seemed to be playing over and over in his mind. That warmth, that need, that confirmation that he had the power to convince her to stay with him and not go back...to America, was strengthening.

He kissed her back hard and unforgiving. His lips nipping at hers, his teeth grazing her just slightly and his tongue sliding in and out of her mouth like a seductive slithering snake wanting to taste her insides like she were the elixir of life.

"Dinner! Oh, sorry!" Andrromeda called out from the backdoor, but apologized at the first sight of their joint efforts together. "Well, it'll be ready when you are!"

They barely heard Andromeda's voice calling to them as they lapped at each other greedily. Wrapped up into each other like it was their last night on earth, they both relished in moment and basked in the cool wind at their heated intimacy.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, her lips tearing against his feverishly.

"What for?" he managed. His hand was sliding dangerously down her waist.

"For getting involved with you," she mustered, running her fingers through his soft long locks. They fell through her fingers like silk and the sensation was just revving her up more. Her insides a forbidden fire.

"Oh, Merlin's Beard, don't be," he answered, almost exhausted. "I'm so glad that you did."

"This is wrong. We're so very wrong together," she breathed against him. She tried desperately to get closer to him, but any more and they'd need to be naked.

"I'm willing to change my ways," he confessed, hoping that she'd stop talking and move on with her traveling hands.

"Oi! Padfoot, come and eat! You two need your strength for whatever you're gearing up to do!" James hollered from the back door like an overbearing parent.

Abruptly, Sirius looked up and waved to his mate without the need for four of his fingers, signifying that he heard him and to leave them alone. His grip around Hermione was still tight, not wanting to let her go just yet.

"I want you to keep this train of thought for as long as you can, like until we get home," Sirius said, looking down at his witch with rose-colored lips that were plump and glistening.

Nervously, she shied away for a second, but then met him again, "You want me to break my vows of chastity?"

This time, Sirius paled before her and she would never forget the stunned look on his face when he believed her for at least seven seconds. It was a cross between discovering the greatest treasure in the world and fear.

The empowerment was strong, but she caved rather quickly, "Just kidding."

"Oh love, in once moment you made me feel absolutely euphoric and petrified at the same time," he confessed, slithering his hands low over her rear. "You are a wicked, wicked witch."