Doors of Perception

Chapter Five

"The ends opening into new ends always"

(Carl Sandberg)

Harry was standing in the doorway.

Sirius felt his blood run cold, numbing him from the centre outwards. He suspected that his expression was frozen into a look of guilty shock but there was nothing that he could do to alter it. From far, far away he heard Hermione's voice. "Harry," she said, and pulled out of his arms to cross to her friend.

"Oh Harry." When she reached up to touch his face he brushed her arm aside, unseeing, his eyes still locked with Sirius's over her head.

"What the fuck?" he asked, his voice neutral, his words furious.

There were no words. He could find no words and he needed no words. Nothing he said could alter anything. Where would he start? Harry, it isn't what it looks like... it damn well was. Harry, we didn't mean to keep it from you... they had made a conscious decision not to tell him.

Before he could sift through to find something to fill then emptiness that spread like a void, an all-consuming, ever-growing void, between himself and his godson, Hermione spoke again, her words quiet but clear. "I love him, Harry. Don't take that away from us."

Tears rose without Sirius noticing. That it would come to this. The first time she said she loved him was in justification to an unspoken accusation. The first time she said she loved him was to Harry.

"We hoped that you would understand," she continued, and Sirius admired her courage, her perseverance. "We've been through so much. We help each other cope. We support one another." Harry's expression hadn't moved even a fraction, he hadn't yet even registered that she was talking to him. "Harry?"

"I thought I could trust you," he spat. "Okay, I knew that the pair of you were close. That pleased me - my close friend and my godfather - I was happy that Hermione chose to come here. It showed trust and love and loyalty to us. I was hurt that she didn't come to me first, but I knew that it was panic: she wanted to get away." His gaze finally tore away from Sirius's to stare into Hermione's eyes. "I've seen the pair of you flirt. That's harmless although it always made me uncomfortable. At Christmas I wondered if there was more; more than wondered - suspected. But I convinced myself that I was paranoid. After all, Siri, you're old enough to be her father. It's disgusting!"

Hermione was crying openly now, but Sirius was still too shocked to move and he knew that taking her into his arms would not help their situation. It was happening too fast. He needed a moment to stop and think.

"How long has this been going on?" Harry asked sharply.

"Since Hermione came here," Sirius replied, truthfully, automatically.

"What? She came to you having been raped and you started a relationship? That's hardly healthy! Hang on - did you fuck her, Sirius? That night she came to you in tears? Is that why you wouldn't let me go upstairs? That's the most perverted thing I've ever heard. Exploitation. You're no better than Malfoy!" he hissed the name.

With a cry of pain, Hermione started forward and slapped Harry fully across the face. "Don't you ever say that! Don't you ever mention his name! I don't care what you think anymore! I love Sirius. I want to be with Sirius. I will sleep with Sirius if I want to and you can go to Hell! I thought that you'd be supportive. I didn't think you'd be pleased, but I at least thought you'd try to understand. I'm disappointed in you, Harry Potter!" With that she fled the room in sobs.

Sirius brushed past Harry and followed her, knowing as he did so that this would solve nothing, that this would only cause more pain. But he was too angry to think rationally about talking to Harry. Maybe in the morning.

***

Hermione came to Sirius's bed that night. Whether her fury with Harry was extended to Ginny, he didn't know. Whether this was rebellion, to show Harry that she didn't care what he though, whether it was simply the need to know that he loved her, that that hadn't changed. He just didn't know.

She screamed her release into the silent air in an open act of defiance. Sirius shut his eyes, not wanting to think about the confrontation that would come in the morning. Not wanting to think of the accusation in Harry's eyes. The accusation he knew that he would see mirrored in Ron's, in Ginny's. Thank God Remus isn't here.

That only led to the knowledge of the disappointment he would see in Remus's eyes when he learnt. The feigned understanding with the edge of disapproval in his smile. And that gentle, disapproving reprimand would hurt as much as Harry's explosive anger because it would remind Sirius exactly who Hermione was: Harry's best friend. Little Harry whom he had swung over his shoulder, little Harry whose first words had been 'Go Robin,' little Harry who should have grown up a companion of his own son - a younger companion of his own son.

Realisation dawned that not only was Hermione young enough to be his daughter, but she was a year and a half younger than his own son! Had things been different she might have been a friend of Robin's. She might have been a girlfriend of Robin's.

He pulled out of Hermione's arms, kissing her sleepy eyes and silencing her protest at his departure with a single finger on her lips. He shrugged on his T-shirt and pulled on his boxers and descended soundlessly to the kitchen. There was no way that he would be able to sleep now.

Harry was sitting at the kitchen table in his pyjamas, eating a yoghurt. Sirius poured a glass of orange juice and sat opposite him. He might as well try: there was no time like the present and they couldn't continue like this. He suppressed the fury that welled up when he thought of Harry's words that evening and tried to see the situation through his godson's eyes. It wasn't difficult and that familiar guilt, chased with uncertainty, surfaced once more. He concentrated on Hermione's words: I love Sirius. I want to be with Sirius...We've been though so much. We help each other cope.

He was right. He just had to help Harry see that.

"Harry?"

"Don't talk to me." The reply was sharp and direct.

"Look, it won't help to..."

"Shut up, Sirius. I said don't talk to me."

Sirius swallowed the last of the juice and stood up, suddenly exhausted. "Okay, fine. I understand that you are angry. I understand why you are angry. But if..."

"I don't want to fucking hear it!"

With a sigh, Sirius left the room. Sometimes he felt irrationally adult and everyone else seemed so young and so unreasonable.

***

By the morning, as Sirius had rightly guessed, Ron and Ginny knew of Harry's discovery the night before. Ron's anger was as evident as Harry's, and Hermione's red, puffy eyes were evidence that they had already had an almighty row by the time that Sirius joined them for breakfast. The surprise, however, was that Ginny's attitude was different. She sat at the table in silence, but her fingers were laced through Hermione's in support. She even gave Sirius a wide smile when he entered, much to Harry and Ron's disgust. Maybe it was because she had never been as close, never been part of that inner circle and so had the benefit of distance from the situation. Maybe it was because she was just a hopeless romantic, but whatever the reason, Sirius was warmed by Ginny's approval. The support of a girlfriend was just what Hermione needed.

Harry announced that he and Ron were taking Idris into the mountains again. There was hurt in Ginny's eyes as they passed her to leave the room, but she made no move to follow them. The three who remained, it seemed to Sirius, released a collective sigh of relief as they heard the car pull out of the driveway. Sirius rested a comforting hand on Hermione's shoulder. "It's okay," he said lamely, knowing that his words were inane. "Give them time."

She sighed softly and Ginny hugged her. "I know," Hermione replied. "I know what they think. I understand that. I just wish that they would try to understand how I feel." She looked up into his eyes and he felt his world go still. Everything was concentrated on her. "I..." She broke off and looked away and the spell was broken.

"Ginny and I are going to look up what we can about dragons," she informed him with a complete change of subject. "If I dwell on this too long, I'll just get angry again. You know that using my brain helps me feel better."

He smiled at her weakly. Certainly, if that was what she wanted. He supposed that working on dragons might be the first step in healing the rift between her and Harry.

***

By the time that Sirius had showered and shaved, the girls had a stack of books on the living room floor, several more spread open around them, and a pair of notepads.

"We've got everything in the house that listed 'dragon' in the index," Hermione told him. "We might be lucky, but I think we'll probably need to go to a library. On the other hand, you have a real mix of books here, so I have no idea what we'll find."

He wondered if he should offer to help, but they appeared to have a system that worked so he left them to it. He wandered out into the garden. It was finally starting to feel like spring and the daffodils were opening along the back of the house. He sat in one of the chairs and gazed out at the grey water. He had to believe what he had told Hermione. He had to believe that Harry would grow to understand.

He looked down at his hands, seeing for the first time how wrinkled and calloused they were. Old man's hands. No. He had to stop himself thinking like that: he was scarcely forty. Not old. Middle-aged maybe, and not even that in the Wizarding world. Old in comparison to her. He didn't need to look over his shoulder in through the glass doors to where she was sitting. He knew the frown of concentration that would be on her face, the way she sometimes chewed the end of her pen when she was thinking, the way she would smudge ink down the side of her hand from writing so fast. He had learnt to know her so well in those weeks that they had spent intensely in each other's company. He didn't need to look to know the way she sat cross-legged on the floor because the dust sheets covered the furniture.

With a sharp laugh he remembered that they were meant to be painting today. Oh well, maybe later when the girls were done they could start. He didn't envision a successful team effort from the five of them painting now. It was so frustrating, and doubly so because he couldn't see any one who was explicitly to blame. Why were they all so unreasonable?

***

Harry sat on a slab of slate and glared down the valley at the silver strip of river that wound its way through the sheep fields and out towards the sea. The grey clouds were oppressively low and there was no sign of the dragon herd. Idris scampered about, more like a puppy than a dragon kit, each thicket of brambles suddenly more interesting than the last.

Ron stood some feet away, his hands jammed in his pockets, watching the small, red reptile in its investigations. There was a comfortable silence between them, an understanding of things not to be mentioned. Harry was relieved that Ron felt as he did. He was both angry and hurt in discovering that his godfather and his best friend were lovers. After all, Sirius was twice her age! And he almost thought of Sirius as a surrogate father - which made everything worse. Ron's horror and disgust had fuelled his own, reassuring him that he wasn't being unreasonable. They were wrong, not him.

He sighed, his shoulders drooping. He hated arguments. He remembered their fourth year when Ron had stopped speaking to him. Was he destined to go through something like that again? But doubly worse this time because of Sirius too? He had come to see Plas Isaf as his home, as a refuge from Voldemort. And now anger and bad feelings threatened to penetrate his haven. Even Ginny had looked at him in anger, her fury twisting the knife of Hermione's pain and disappointment in his chest.

But he couldn't apologise. He couldn't try to smooth the conflict because they were wrong and backing down would only allow them to continue being wrong.

***

When Harry and Ron returned, shut Idris back in the garage and entered the house with trepidation, they were greeted by the sound of shrill laughter. It was not the sound that Harry expected to hear and it caused a chill of discomfort in the pit of his stomach. It hurt that the girls could so blatantly be enjoying themselves without him: in fact, knowing that they were happy when he was so miserable made him angry. How could they be happy?

The sharp scent of the paint penetrated the whole house and Ron, frowning, went straight upstairs to try and avoid it. Harry stuck his head around the door into the living room. Neither Hermione or Ginny had heard him: they had Sirius's Muggle radio on and were dancing to some throbbing rhythm as they painted. It was Ginny who was laughing, listening to Hermione's out-of-tune rendition of the song. They had painted one and a half of the walls between them - Sirius was nowhere to be seen. Now that he suspected he knew the reason for the colour, Harry really wanted to dislike it. It should have been as dirty and disgusting as the idea of its inspiration, but it was actually a soothing creamy colour. It was too close to pink for Harry's liking, but it was much nicer than he would have admitted.

The furniture had all been pulled into the centre of the room to allow easy access to the walls, with the exception of the table on which Ginny was standing to reach the area of wall above the windows. She had paint smeared all the way down one arm and splattered on her dark trousers. Harry realised, to his surprise, that this was probably the first time that she had painted walls the Muggle way. He didn't know how wizards decorated, but he suspected that they had a tidier, less time consuming method. However, tidiness depended of course on the painter. Hermione had barely any paint on her old T-shirt and jeans, and what there was was green, so it must have come from some other time. Her wild hair was pulled out of her face with a band of red elastic and there was one single streak of peach paint across her forehead where she must have pushed her fringe back further.

He was furious with her. He still was. But watching her paint and sing softly to herself under her breath, Harry could almost forget that. She was still Hermione. He hated to think of her in Sirius's arms; it made his skin crawl, and he knew that it was only his own stubbornness that prevented him from trying to talk to her about how he felt. But then, he knew that she would only tell him that he was wrong, that she loved Sirius and that he had to come to terms with it. Which he wouldn't do.

He realised that he was glaring at the back of Hermione's head and transferred his gaze back to Ginny. Who was staring at him.

She hadn't said or done anything to draw Hermione's attention to the fact that they had an observer, but her eyes were fixed on Harry, and for one fearful moment Harry felt that she could see right through him and read his mind. He backed out of the room silently, in embarrassment. Why had she taken their side? Arguing with Ginny hurt him as much as fighting with Sirius and Hermione.

Why couldn't the pair of them see that their relationship was tearing apart more than their friendships with him? Why couldn't they see how destructive it was? How dirty and wrong?

Maybe, whispered a tiny voice in the back of his head, because you are being as unreasonable as they are about it.

***

Sirius was in the sitting room, the last few of the books which the girls had found spread out around him. He had been banished from the living room by Hermione who had teasingly, but probably accurately, told him that the two of them would get it finished faster without him.

He hadn't been offended: he didn't like painting, and he knew that she knew that. He could hear the pair of them giggling away like schoolgirls - which they are, he reminded himself - and it made him remember Lily and Vivian and the hysterical laughter they used to succumb to over things that the men just couldn't understand and didn't find amusing in the slightest.

It made him happy, to have laughter in the house again. He regretted that Harry and Ron weren't there to raise eyebrows and shake their heads with him as Remus and James and Peter would have done.

But that was then and this was now.

He was getting fed up of dragons. There was only so much that he could read about wingspans, dietary requirements and claw clipping before becoming bored. He was certain that he hadn't yet discovered anything that Charlie Weasley hadn't already told Harry.

Charlie Weasley. Which made him think of Hermione again. Would Charlie be coming to Plas Isaf that summer to help with Idris's introduction to the wild? How would he react to that? Could he face Charlie again now, knowing that it was to Charlie that Hermione had lost her virginity?

And did Charlie know about Ron? He thought Ron had said Bill and Charlie didn't know yet. Oh it was all a pretty mess, and he somehow felt responsible even though it wasn't all his fault - or even any of his business - but he was the only adult and suddenly he felt overwhelmingly, painfully alone in a way that he hadn't felt since before Hermione.

And it didn't matter anymore that his friend would disapprove, more than anything, Sirius needed to talk to Remus. He pushed the books to the floor and went out into the hall to use the telephone. He passed Harry, who was going up the stairs, and only realised as he began to dial Remus's number that the two of them had smiled at one another as a reflex, as they always had done. Suddenly, as quickly as the loneliness had come, it was gone. Harry does still love me, Sirius knew with complete certainty. He's always loved me. We'll get through this. We'll sort it out. And then Remus answered the phone and Sirius realised that he hadn't planned at all what he was going to say.

"Hi."

"Hello. Is that Sirius?"

"Yeah."

"Well, well. You don't call very often. What's up?"

Argh. "Um." Shit! I should have worked this bit out! "Harry and co are here. We're decorating. They've only got three more days before terms starts up again. Any chance you could come up?" Whew. That sounds natural enough.

"I'm not sure. I..."

"Please come. I need to talk to you."

"Okay, sure. About what? Something we can't talk about now?"

"I'm not exactly happy about doing this over the phone."

There was a sigh at the other end. "Oh, Sirius. Do you have any idea how disruptive you are?" Remus's voice came down the line with a familiar chuckle. "Look, I'm not sure I can get away this week. I'll come see you, I promise, but it will probably be after they've left. Pass on my greetings, won't you?"

"Look Remus. I think you should see them."

"I'm done with riddles, Padfoot!" The voice was teasing but tinged with exasperation. "If there's something wrong come out with it. You know I'll come up there if you really need me."

"I do. We do. Look, Harry and I aren't exactly talking at the moment. I'm feeling guilty. And Ron's upset. Basically, it's all a mess and we need good old Moony to come sort us out." It sounded stupid when he said it out loud and Sirius was afraid that his desperation was revealed in his tone.

There was another sigh. "What have you done?" This was the voice of the old friend, ever patient with Sirius's indiscretions, ever able to deal with the problems, capable and organised in a way that Sirius could only ever dream of. "What have you done? Been hitting on Hermione, have you?"

What could he possibly say to that?

"Shit, Sirius! Tell me you haven't!"

"Well, it's not quite like that..."

"Not quite like what?" Remus sounded urgent now.

"I think I'm in love with her."

Silence. For a brief second Sirius was proud of his ability to shock his unshockable friend.

"Well, that's a nice mess." Remus's voice was strained. "And my guess would be Harry isn't entirely happy with that. Does Hermione know how you feel?"

"Yeah. I wouldn't dare say she feels the same, but um, there's certainly attraction there."

"Sirius. Please tell me you haven't had sex with Harry's best friend."

He had thought that the previous silence was bad.

Remus let out a low whistle. Sirius braced himself for the explosion. Remus said calmly, "I'll be on the next train." Then there was the click of a severed connection. Sirius stared at the receiver in his hand and then replaced it on the hook. As he stepped away he glanced upward and saw that Harry was still standing at the top of the stairs, his green eyes watching Sirius, completely unreadable.

***

The five of them ate supper together but no one made any attempt at conversation. Harry's eyes flicked back and forth between Ginny and his plate of food. Ron glared at the wooden table and ate at a remarkable speed. Neither of the girls looked up once. They sat together, Hermione taking comfort from her friend's support. Sirius remembered how it had been when the others first arrived, how it had been Ginny who was uncomfortable with Hermione, and now this complete change: Ginny was the one who stuck by Hermione.

Then, to Sirius's surprise, it was Ron who broke the silence. Admittedly it was with a stream of curses, but it broke the deadlock all the same. "I can't stand this any more!" he yelled at them. "We have to fucking deal with this. Look at us. We are the people who have always been there for each other. Harry, we're the family you never had. Sirius, Harry's your godson. Hermione, you have to sort yourself out!"

"I'm not the one who needs to sort myself out!" she replied shrilly. "I'm not doing anything that needs to be changed."

"No!?" Harry yelled. "Well I think fucking a man twice your age is something that should be sorted out!"

"Enough!" Sirius bellowed. "I will not have this at my table. We will either have a civilised discussion about this, or we will not discuss it at all! And that goes for all of you!" he included Hermione in his stare. Ginny shrunk back, mouse-like in her chair.

Harry pushed his chair back violently and stood, dumping his plate in the sink and thumping up the stairs. The others remained in silence. Finally, with a sigh, Ron asked, "Hermione. Would you come for a walk with me tomorrow? I think we need to talk this through."

Sirius was impressed by the boy's maturity. Maybe it came from living in a house with five older brothers. "Yes," she replied softly. "Can Ginny come? Then maybe," she glanced at Sirius sorrowfully. "Maybe Sirius and Harry will get a chance to discuss their differences." Ron gave a curt nod and smiled at his sister. Evidently their choice to stand either side of the divide had not put too much negative pressure on their own relationship.

***

Harry sat in the window of his room as he had once sat in the Gryffindor dormitories with that same feeling of emptiness and wonder. The mountains were purple in the twilight and hazy against the darkening sky. Wisps of cloud looped in careless tendrils across the sky, reaching down to lovingly caress the worn peaks of the mountains. Harry's anger dissipated. He could still touch it when he concentrated, a fiery well deep inside him, but in the sight of the mountains it seemed so distant. He wondered how much anger those mountains had seen in their time, how much hurt and pain and how much happiness. And yet, through everything, through torrential rain and baking sun, there they remained, permanent and incorruptible.

Harry wondered why people called the wilderness unforgiving. He felt that nature was as forgiving as it was possible to be. These mountains bore no grudges. In time, everything healed. He knew that. Vibrant pain became no more than a dull ache, ecstatic happiness could bring a smile in memory, but never reconstruct the feeling of the time. And after memory, then there was nothing.

He pressed his face against the cold window, the frames of his glasses pressing uncomfortably into his cheeks. The mountains looked distorted now, up through the old glass, and they were fading as the blanket of darkness slipped ever lower.

Harry wondered if he was being too harsh. After everything that Sirius and Hermione had gone through...

And yet, he still instinctively shuddered at the thought of them together.

And now Ron appeared to be making vague gestures towards reconciliation. Harry felt stubborn and guilty and yet he just couldn't bring himself to grant his blessing. He looked out at the mountains again, bare, cold and ancient. Maybe in the great scheme of things, it wasn't as big a problem as he was making it.

***

It was awkward, but Ron, Hermione and Ginny managed to get themselves into the car and out of the driveway. The silence that hung between them was uncomfortable, but Sirius had faith that they could discuss it fairly amicably. And at least Ginny could try to keep the peace: inviting her had been a good idea.

Except that it left him alone with Harry.

Swallowing hard, Sirius went to find his godson. If Ron could be adult about this, then so could they. Harry was sprawled on his bed and didn't move when Sirius entered.

"I'm walking into Tal Y Bont. We don't have any milk. Do you want to come?" He half willed Harry to say yes, half dreaded hearing it.

"Okay."

Well, it wasn't enthusiastic, but it was a start.

It was nearing the end of April, but a cold, blustery wind still buffeted them as they walked the mile of narrow road into the village. Each had his coat wrapped tightly around his body and his head down to face the wind, so there was little need for words. Sirius felt reassured by Harry's presence. He remembered the unconscious smile the day before and he wondered where to begin patching their relationship.

As it turned out, he was not the one who made the first move.

***

The door to the newsagents and village shop slammed shut behind them as the wind caught it. "Paid a poeni," called the shopkeeper as she bustled in from the back room. "Oh, it's you, Mr Brown. In was just saying don't worry. It slams all the time in this wretched wind."

Harry raised an eyebrow at Sirius's choice of name. He didn't think that his godfather had ever met Lavender. It was a nice invisible name, he supposed. As close to black as Sirius could be without keeping his name.

"And this must be Henry," the lady continued. "Home for the holidays are you, my lad?" Harry nodded and smiled neutrally. "Now, what can I get you two gentlemen?"

"Oh, don't put yourself out, Mrs Jones. We just stopped for some milk." Sirius stepped over to the shelf to get the carton himself.

After he paid, Mrs Jones turned to go back over to her stockroom. "Nice to meet you, Henry," she said. "Your father spends far too much time on his own. It's nice to see him having some company."

Harry felt a guilty pang in his chest, but smothered it. As they left the shop, Sirius held the door open for him against the wind. "Thanks, Dad."

Harry saw flickers of emotion move like waves across Sirius's face. First amazed pleasure, then sadness as he remembered James, then disquiet as he discovered the concealed criticism: the reminder that he was old enough to be Harry's - and therefore Hermione's - father, and then his expression settled on happiness again and Harry couldn't help but smile back. Much as he was disturbed by his relationship, he did still love Sirius more than he could ever express. But then he had always been inarticulate when it came to expressing emotions; there were never enough words to explain what he meant.

But the smile on Sirius's face told him that Sirius had understood all the meanings in that one word far more clearly than if Harry had tried to put the message into fifty words.

***

It wasn't forgiveness or a blessing. Sirius knew that. But it was a start, it was an acknowledgement that there was a possibility of understanding in the future. Or if not understanding, at least tolerance. And tolerance was enough - he couldn't ever ask for Harry's blessing, much as he wanted it. That wasn't fair.

Maybe someday far in the future.

Remus arrived on the bus from Bangor just after Ron, Hermione and Ginny spilled back into the house, red cheeked from the brisk wind and laughing.

"They left me in a gorse bush!" Ginny protested indignantly, but there was a bubble of laughter behind her words. "They were so deeply engrossed in their conversation that they just walked off and I got prickled in the bottom!"

Sirius was amused to see Harry's cheeks begin to redden. The boy was so adorably young sometimes. "It wasn't on purpose," Ron protested.

"I know that, you silly!" Ginny said. "But it's nice to know that your sister is so important to you!"

Ron planted a kiss on her forehead. "Of course she it. Her intervention saved my skin about four times already today."

Oh dear, not good. On the other hand, Hermione is smiling.

Ron turned to Sirius. His eyes glanced apologetically at Harry, but then he looked back. "I'm sorry," he said stiffly. "I was a complete arse. I still don't approve, but I won't mention the subject again." Sirius was touched, knowing how much effort it had taken for Ron to say those words. Hermione reached for her friend and she squeezed his hand in thanks, her glowing smile showing how much his words meant to her.

"I will not mention it either," Sirius replied seriously. It was the least he could do. He and Hermione could refrain from kissing, or even touching, in the presence of the others if it made the reconciliation any easier.

Harry was still stony faced and made no move to echo Ron's sentiments. But neither did he accuse Ron of traitorous collusion.

Then the moment was broken by Remus's energetic knock on the door.

***

Harry sat on his window ledge again that night, staring up at the outline of the mountains. It was becoming a ritual, he thought wryly. His reflection stared back at him though the glass and behind his face the stars shone down. He could hear the murmur of voices downstairs even though it was well past two o'clock. He suspected that Sirius and Remus would be up all night.

Part of him was curious and wanted to creep to the top of the stairs to hear what they were saying, but part of him refrained, knowing that it was not his place to pry. The look that had passed between them when Remus said that it was time for the pair of them to have a word, was distinctly adult. They had gone into the little sitting room, the living room furniture still not put back after the painting, and shut the door firmly. From his room, Harry could hear the timbre of their voices, which had dropped from terse sentences to long rumbling paragraphs, but he couldn't make out the words. Remus's face had been unreadable in front of the 'children' as he so patronisingly referred to them for Sirius's benefit.

Harry had heard the barbs in the comment and his back had stiffened. Two of the so-called 'children' were over eighteen, and he too would be in four months. They were as good as adults. He put his face in his hands. As good as adults. He had thought it himself. Hermione was basically an adult.

No. It was still wrong.

There was a tentative knock at his bedroom door, surprising him. He padded across in his pyjamas and bare feet to open the door and reveal Ginny, her dressing gown clutched over her nightdress, her coppery hair wild and loose across her shoulders.

"Can I have a word?" she asked.

It seemed slightly surreal, but Harry moved aside to let her in. She clambered onto his bed and tucked her little feet under the hem to protect them from the cold. Gingerly, Harry sat down beside her. "What is it that's so important that it couldn't wait until morning?"

She blushed. "I knew you were awake. I could see your light under the door. I couldn't sleep either. I've been trying to hear what they were saying," she indicated the floor below where Sirius and Remus's deep voices continued their conversation. "But I couldn't." Harry smiled, remembering his own inclination to do exactly the same. "So I was lying awake thinking. I...kind of talked myself into doing this. I know that if I left it until morning then I never would. So here I am."

She might have thought that that was an explanation, but Harry didn't. "Um, so... um... what are you here to talk about?"

"Two things. Well, one. I don't know: they're interconnected." Her voice was so low that he had to lean forward to hear her. "I'm sure that you don't want to, but we need to talk about Sirius and Hermione."

He sighed and leaned back against the wall. "No, we don't."

She rolled her eyes. "Stop being so impossible. I know you're not comfortable with it, but surely you can see that they have a right to try and find happiness? After all they've been though. And if that happiness is together then who are we to deprive them of it?"

He didn't have an answer because she sounded uncomfortably close to right and he didn't want to acknowledge it. But she hadn't finished. "Hermione really needs our support. On the surface she seems okay now, but she still cries out in her sleep. She whimpers 'no, no, no' into her pillow and other things, things I can't always hear. Once I tried to wake her - I thought it might help - but she pushed me away roughly and called out for Sirius, and all through it she hadn't woken. Hermione's strong and she's coping well. How she'll be back at school, I don't know, but right now she needs all of us. And that includes Sirius."

Her eyes were firmly on Harry's and he couldn't meet her gaze. "But I don't need to tell you all this," Ginny continued. "You already know it, and that's one of the things that's making you so irritable. Oh Harry, can't you just tolerate it? They won't ask you for more than that."

"What was the second thing you wanted to talk about?" he asked her, roughly changing the subject.

Now it was her turn to look away. "I... um... maybe this isn't such I good idea after all..."

Later Harry would never know where the decision came from, what impulse drove him to do at that moment what he had wanted for so long. He leaned forward and gently lifted her chin and kissed her. For a moment she didn't move, shock freezing her, and then her arms wound around his neck and she was kissing him back and it was much better than he could ever have imagined. It wasn't the kiss so much, Cho had been a more experienced and talented kisser, as the fact that it was Ginny. Her sweet lips on his, her tentative tongue brushing his, her soft hands on his neck, and above all the earnestness with which she responded to him.

When he pulled away she kept her arms around his neck. "Don't you think Ron would kill us?" she whispered.

"Nah. None of his business. He loves us both and he'll be happy for us."

Ginny sat back with a satisfied smile on her face and Harry had the distinct impression that she was crowing inside.

"What is it?"

"Aside from the fact that you just kissed me? Think about what you just said."

"Ron will be happy for us... because we're... oh shit!"

She leaned forward to kiss him again, "So, you're going to talk to Sirius in the morning? Or shall I just leave so that we don't make my brother angry?"

"I'm beginning to have the suspicion that I've been tricked." He tried to summon anger, but with Ginny in his arms looking at him in that adoring fashion it seemed that he could forgive anything. He irrationally thought that maybe he should go talk to Sirius now because in the morning he wouldn't be feeling this elated and willing to forgive. But moving and releasing Ginny from his arms was something that was just not going to happen.

"It wasn't a trick. I just wanted to prove to you that you can agree with me or you can be wrong."

He kissed her again softly, unable to believe that it was real, that she was letting him do this, more than that - she was encouraging him to do this. He couldn't stop saying her name, like a mantra, a lullaby and he was feeling sleepy...and it was the middle of the night...and it didn't matter anymore about anything... not now that Ginny was here and curling up beside him on the bed...he wouldn't go to sleep...no he didn't want to miss a second of being with her...he would just shut his eyes for a second...

***

Harry woke to see the back of Ginny's head. Her hair was spread on his pillow and her knees were bunched up against the wall, and her dressing gown was all tangled around her arms. Ever so gently he kissed the white area of exposed neck, needing to feel that she was really there. She breathed out and turned to face him without opening her eyes. "So," she murmured into his chest. "You're going to tell Sirius and Hermione that you understand how they feel?"

"What happened to a morning kiss? Or 'hello gorgeous?' or even a plain 'good morning'?" he teased. "I wake up next to the girl of my dreams and she greets me by telling me to tell my godfather that it's okay that he's sleeping with my best friend?"

"Basically yes. Because then we have to face Ron." She opened her eyes and looked at him. "It's going to be a lovely day."

He wasn't sure if she was joking.

***

The wind from the day before had died as suddenly as it had come and the sun was beginning to peek out from behind its April clouds. The entire back of the house was bathed in the glow of spring sunshine. Remus and Sirius, with dark circles that confirmed the fact that they had been up all night, and Ron were moving the furniture in the living room back to where it belonged when Ginny and Harry descended hand in hand. The new paint was exactly the right colour, Harry decided. He still hated what it represented but he took a deep breath and said all in a rush, very similar to Ron the day before, "GinnyandIareacouple. AnditmademerealisethatIhavebeen... beenvery...unfairinmyreactiontoyourrelationshipwithHermioneandI'msorry."

"What?" Sirius asked in surprise, whether because he didn't understand or because he was amazed to hear it, Harry wasn't sure.

"I've been," wrong? no. "Um... harsh in my judgement of you. You have as much right to be happy as I do." Here a quick glance at Ron. "I still don't like it. I'm not sure I ever will. But I'll.. tolerate it... if you please don't do anything while I'm in the room or preferably the house," he finished quickly.

Remus and Sirius looked at each other. "I told you!" Ginny exclaimed, running to throw her arms around Sirius. "I told you. He just needed time to see."

Harry was feeling distinctly set-up once more, but the sheer surprise and pleasure on Sirius's face told him that he hadn't been. "Hey," said Sirius softly, pulling away from Ginny and crossing to him. "That was very mature of you. And, like I said to Ron, Hermione and I understand how you feel. We've agreed to maintain a platonic distance when you're around if it makes you more comfortable."

"It would make me more comfortable if you always maintained a platonic distance," Harry grumbled, but his words lacked conviction and he pulled Sirius into a hug. "You know I want you to be happy, right? It's just...a bit weird."

Sirius laughed and Harry could hear the relief as if some ancient weight had been lifted from him. "Thanks Harry. I am happy. How could I not be happy with all of you here?" He stepped away and looked at his godson. Harry remembered when he had needed to look up to meet Sirius's eyes, but now they were almost level. Quietly, seriously, Sirius said, "I love you, Harry. I've hated the thought that you were disgusted with me."

Harry blushed bright red: it was not the kind of thing he was used to expressing. "I love you, too," he replied awkwardly and was very relieved when Hermione came into the room and gave him an excuse to change the subject.

Ron and Ginny were having a terse conversation in undertones which Harry suspected might be about him, but they too broke off when Hermione came in, her hair still damp from her shower and a curious smile on her face. "What's going on in here?"

***

Sirius had never seen Hermione look more radiant than when Harry told her that he and Sirius had 'kind of made up' and that both he and Ron were 'getting used to' the idea that she and Sirius were a couple. She pulled them both to her. Sirius noticed that Harry was now scarlet. The poor boy was uncomfortable with such blatant expressions of affection and Sirius made a mental note not to hug Harry in front of his friends again. Remus caught his eye and the two of them and Ginny went out into the garden to allow the other three friends a bit of time in private. Sirius suspected that even if Ron and Harry's anger had abated somewhat, there was still a lot that the three needed to discuss.

"So, um..." Ginny tried valiantly to strike up a conversation with the two grown men. "Do we have any plans for today?"

Sirius shook his head before an idea dawned, "Remus hasn't met Idris yet. I know that you went yesterday, but maybe we should go up to the dragon reserve."

Ginny laughed, "It's becoming a home from home, that place. Keep me away from the gorse though, I wasn't joking - that stuff is horrible!"

"Hello?" Remus was waving his arms in mock exasperation. "What are we talking about?"

"Ginny got stuck in some gorse yesterday..."

"I figured out that bit. I was referring to Idris. Who is Idris?"

Ginny raised her eyebrows in surprise, "You haven't even told him about Idris?"

Sirius shrugged, "Well, we had one or two other things to discuss that seemed more pertinent at the moment."

Remus coughed loudly again, making them laugh, "Riddles aren't fun. Can you explain?"

"Idris is Harry's dragon," Ginny told Remus simply. "He lives in a box in the garage and we take him up to the reserve for exercise and to get him used to it - Harry's planning to release him this summer if he's ready."

"A dragon?" The incredulity was evident.

"Uh, yeah. A Welsh Green. Except he's red. He's quite sweet really. Harry's studying Care of Magical Creatures, and Charlie needed someone to raise this dragon. It's worked out really well for everyone."

"Isn't it illegal?"

"Breeding is illegal. This one was orphaned and dying before Charlie got hold of it. So the aim is to integrate it back into the wild."

"Can I see?"

Sirius was amazed to see how much Idris had grown in the few days that he had known him. "He's going to be enormous by the summer! Surely Dumbledore isn't going to let Harry keep him in the school?"

"Hagrid is building a corral down by the Forbidden Forest," Ginny said. "Obviously Hagrid is thrilled to have the dragon around. He keeps talking about Norbert, which no one will explain to me."

Remus shrugged, "Nope. I don't know either. With Hagrid, it's usually best not to ask too many questions because you probably are happier not knowing the answers."

***

There was no way that they could fit everyone plus the dragon into Sirius's small car, so Sirius dropped Harry, Ron and Hermione with Idris and then went back for Ginny and Remus.

While they were gone, Harry and Ron chased Idris up through the brambles to the highest point that they could find. Hermione followed at a more sedate pace. Idris was beginning to learn what his wings were for and he could flutter a few paces before colliding with the ground again. Harry couldn't help but wonder how they were going to contain him once he gained full use of his wings.

"Harry?" Ron's serious voice drew Harry's attention back from his musings.

"Yeah?"

"I think we need to talk."

Oh shit. Ginny. I should have seen this coming. Harry sighed. "I guess we should."

"I know that Ginny's always liked you, Harry. I just want to make sure that you really care about her and that this isn't some kind of sympathy or anything."

Harry stared incredulously at his friend. "I can't believe that you are asking that. After all those years of being embarrassed by her crush, do you honestly think that I'd just accept it all of a sudden?"

"Well... I just wanted to be sure. I wouldn't want her to get hurt."

"I won't hurt her," Harry said softly. "For the last year or so I've... liked her. Ever since she stopped having a crush on me actually. I thought I'd never have a chance and that she wasn't interested, that it had all just been awe over the Boy Who Lived. She wouldn't have been the only one. And then...yesterday..." he sighed, unable to and the words and too embarrassed to look at Ron.

Ron, who was grinning at him.

Harry punched him lightly in the arm. "Oh, you! I thought that you were going to be angry! Just after we made up with Hermione and everything. Oh, that wasn't fair!"

They were both laughing and trading insults when Hermione caught up with them. "Nice to see that everything's back to normal," she commented dryly.

***

"I can't believe that I have to go in the morning," Hermione whispered into the front of Sirius's shirt, her arms tightly around him. The others had gone to bed so he had pulled her into his arms, knowing that their goodbye the next day would have to be chaste so as not to flare up the dispute once more.

"I know. But you'll come in the summer?"

"You know I will. We've already discussed that."

"I just wanted to make sure. All the stuff that the boys said might have made you change your mind about how you felt. I don't want to tie you down or anything. I know that you're young and have to lead your own life..."

She shut him up with a kiss. "You sound so morbid. You're not that old!"

"Why thanks, I'm flattered."

She smiled at him, resting her forehead against his. "I'll miss you so much. I'll count the days."

"You won't be the only one."

"Anyway, even if I didn't want to, I'd have to come back," she teased. "We're going to bring the dragon down to the reserve, remember?"

"I'm not sure if I can come. I'm still on the run, remember?"

"I'm sure Harry will make sure that it's only people who know about you, then you can come meet us at the reserve. The logistics of bringing that dragon will be amazing."

Sirius could hear the mathematical part of her brain whirring into gear and he kissed her again, loving her intelligence but not wanting to distract her from the purpose of their meeting. But it seemed that she was already half distracted, "Did I tell you that I saw another one of those blue-eyed people?" she asked.

"No, when?" sometimes the only way to get what he wanted from Hermione was to let her pursue her full train of thought.

"Yesterday, when you drove back down to get Ginny and Remus. The boys had run on ahead with Idris and I was walking at my own pace. He seemed to materialise out of nowhere. It wasn't like Apparating though, not like one moment he wasn't there and the next he was; it was more gradual, like he faded out of the rocks themselves and then he smiled at me and I felt like he was looking right through me with those eyes just like the others. He greeted me in Welsh, so I didn't understand, then he smiled and walked away. He was in his thirties probably. So that's three now: the old man we saw, then the boy I saw with Ron, Harry and Ginny and now this guy. All of them had these camouflage cloaks and those cobalt eyes."

She paused, running her finger around his lips and he wondered if that was all she was going to say, but she was obviously still thinking because then she continued, "Are there guards or wardens or something at the reserve? Do you think that's what they are? Maybe they all belong to one family which would explain their likeness to one another."

He didn't know and he told her so.

"Oh, well. I don't suppose it matters. I just don't like unsolved mysteries," she concluded. "And thank you for being patient with me. I know that dragons and dragon-men aren't what you wanted to spend this time discussing."

She was both right and wrong. He couldn't explain to her that it didn't really matter what they talked about, it was her presence, her very being that mattered. She could talk about anything she wanted and he would be happy. But then again, there were things he would rather be doing than listening to her discuss blue-eyed men.

***

Remus agreed to stay after the others left, for which Sirius was glad. The house always seemed so empty after their departure. In the end, Remus said his goodbyes at Plas Isaf and then Sirius drove the others up to Bangor to the train. Idris was getting too big for the box that they had brought him in, but in the end Harry convinced him to curl up and sleep throughout the journey. Daring the disapproval of the others, Sirius gave Hermione a quick kiss just before she boarded the train and she clung to him for an instant, "I'll see you in June," she whispered. "I'll miss you."

"I'll miss you too. I love you."

And as the train pulled out of the station he saw her in the window, mouthing the words back: "I love you."