Lost and Found

Chapter 20 - Lost and Found

Hermione stared, openmouthed, at the collapsed, unmoving figure on the ground. Pettigrew was still standing over him, looking just as shocked as she - but only because he was currently missing her wand.

"No," she whispered. It wasn't possible. Not after everything he had been through - he couldn't-

Two wands, clasped in her shaking hand. Peter Pettigrew was now staring down at his old school friend, disbelief etched onto his face.

"Padfoot," he whispered, sounding strangely lucid. "Padfoot, get up, won't you? This isn't a funny joke, not a funny joke at all..."

Hermione felt her strength wavering as she saw the gaunt man kneeling at Sirius' side, his hand reaching out shakily to touch him-

"No!" she screamed. "Get away from him. Get away!" A fury, familiar and aching, had risen inside of her. The sharp, painful hate that filled her and emptied her all at once. One of the wands was moving now, without her consent, to point at her former assailant.

Pettigrew looked up at her funnily. "I killed him," he said in a high, strained voice. "Didn't I?"

She felt something inside of her twist desperately, and found she couldn't quite breathe. "He can't- no-"

"I did," he said shrilly, "I killed Padfoot! And Lily and James! I killed them-" And Peter started laughing, insanely, laughing in a way she'd only seen once before, on the wanted posters that advertised a mad convict, escaped from Azkaban- "It doesn't feel like you'd think," he told her matter-of-factly, mad, sunken eyes boring directly into hers. "I don't feel a thing!"

Hermione swallowed hard and clenched her teeth, hand gripping the wand so tightly that her knuckles were turning bone white. "I'll kill you," she told him. "I'll kill you!"

Peter Pettigrew didn't respond as she swept the wand up and back down to point at him again. He was simply looking at Sirius' body with a frightened, desperate look that completely belied his last statement.

And she realized that she couldn't do it. Not again. Because...

"I don't reckon my dad would've wanted them to become killers--just for you."

"Petrificus Totalus," she said hoarsely.

Pettigrew stiffened immediately, the wash of magic freezing his face in that awful expression as his body straightened out and threw him back mercifully from Sirius Black's crumpled figure.

She found herself stumbling toward him now, and falling beside him, her hand moving to brush the hair from his closed eyes where it had fallen. And it hit her that he looked the same, living or dead, that he was still Sirius but that he was gone from her forever - again - even as he lay there right beneath her, still warm.

Hermione gave up all control, then, throwing herself onto him and into his chest, feeling the tears come without care. "Wake up," she pleaded desperately, her voice not working well enough and choking when she didn't need it to. "Wake up, please wake up Sirius..."

She watched it. She'd watched him die and she could have prevented it, but she hadn't been quick enough-

"Don't be dead," she told him, begged him. "Please... please don't..." She buried her face in his neck, wishing to god that he were alive to be embarrassed or uncomfortable or to hold her close and tell her he was okay... she wanted him to kiss her again, to feel him being reckless with her even though he didn't mean it. She didn't care that he hadn't meant it. She didn't care about anything except that he was gone and it was her fault again.

"Sirius," she whispered to him, pulling herself raggedly onto her elbows and then putting her hands to his face, her forehead to his, still warm, still damnably warm. "Sirius, please. I don't ask for much. God, I've never asked for much. I just want you to live. You can be mad at me, you can leave me, you can even refuse never to so much as look at me again-" He couldn't hear her, but she tried, and tried, and tried, crying. "I love you, you bastard, so wake up!"

Hermione wasn't aware that she had cast any kind of distress signal with her wand, but apparently she had - because there were people in her house now, trying to pull her away from him, though she clung tightly to the belief he was somehow living, sleeping, pretending, anything. And there were people taking Pettigrew away-

"Granger," someone was saying hoarsely, later. "Come on. I'll get you a firewhisky, lord knows you need it-"

"No," she said, staring at him, peaceful, reposed, still. "No, no, no, no, no-"

And he was holding her the way Sirius had, patting her awkwardly on the back. "Fuck. My fault, my fucking fault, if I hadn't asked-" She wasn't sure how she was still crying. Surely, she must have used up all her tears by now. But someone was holding her like him, and he was overly lanky, just like him, and he was crying too, for some reason.

"Come on, Granger," he urged her with a shaky voice. "At some point, they'll want you for questioning - I'll get you out before then, please let me- you can stay in my office. Hot chocolate, we'll have some. Calm- calm you down-"

"No," she said again, shaking, gripping his shirt. "I can't. I can't leave him-"

"Damnit, listen to me!" he was yelling, angry and confused and pained. "Do you want to have to tell them- tell them everything? Let the bastard have to explain instead! I'm telling you to come with me and have some fucking hot chocolate and talk to Lupin once the fucking moon is gone!"

She was still denying it, over and over. The word had lost all meaning, at this point, but it was something to say.

"Mr. Malfoy, we're going to have to-"

"No, you're not. What you're going to have to do is stick that legal shit up your legal ministry asses."

"I don't think you quite understand-"

"Fuck off."

"We need to talk to her about Mr. Black-" She choked again.

"DID YOU NOT HEAR ME? FUCK OFF!"

A hand was on her shoulder now, drawing her away from him.

"Miss Granger, it's very important, if you could only listen for one moment-"

The hand was removed, a moment later, as Malfoy released her to grab the man by the collar. She didn't pay much attention, other than to hug herself instead. "Listen, you pompous arse-"

"I'm telling you, you don't understand!" the man was saying, apparently starting to panic. "Look, just you come with me if you want, but I'm going to have to tell someone!"

She was dimly aware of the man being let down slowly. Malfoy moved back to her. "Be back," he hissed. "Just - just stay for one moment, I'll be back-"

And she was left alone, to shiver and sob on her couch in silence.

Alone, what a god-awful concept - she'd thought she knew what alone was, before, when she'd lost Sirius once, and then again when she'd lost her parents, and god help her, when Harry and Ron- but no. Now. Now she was alone. This aching emptiness inside of her was complete, irreversible.

An eternity seemed to pass, as she remembered the petty concerns she'd had before. Wondering whether he'd ever come back to visit, if she wanted him to, if he was out at the very moment playing tag with a werewolf- whether she were possibly just not pretty enough, or if he'd just thought she was boring - mudblood, perhaps, it was because she was a mudblood- but he'd died for her and it didn't make her happy, just utterly empty-

Malfoy was back now, hands on her shoulders, helping her up. She followed him limply, tears streaking her cheeks, leaving burning, sore tracts behind as she wiped halfheartedly at her swollen eyes.

"Come on," he told her, sounding strangely subdued.

She let him guide her. There wasn't anything to care about now.

"It's okay," he muttered uncertainly.

It's not, her mind supplied brokenly.

His hand tightened on her shoulder. She didn't think to ask why he bothered, why he was even there, as he moved her gently within the circle of his arm. "Come on Granger, buck up. You're made of tougher stuff, I should think."

She was about to snap at him, to yell and scream at him and ask how he'd be feeling and release the anger and helplessness and despair inside of her at him unfairly - but the vision in the next room made the words die in her throat.

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He woke to a bright white. Unassuming, blissful, white. He was warm, as though someone had wrapped him in a blanket, and he felt an inexplicable happiness bubbling within him. He was home, somehow, even though the only home he'd ever had was long destroyed, in Godric's Hollow.

"Sirius," someone whispered.

He felt a gentle smile spread over his lips, staring into the white infinite.

"Sirius?" they whispered again.

And he woke up.

It wasn't white. No, it was pitch black, the color of his eyelids. His face was wet, for some reason, and there was a blanket over him, except something heavy was holding him down...

"What?" he asked, but it came out as more of a "Whugh?"

A choked sob met his ears, and he opened his eyes blearily. Hermione threw her arms around him, crying. "Oh god, you bastard! I thought you were dead - I thought you were dead! You have no idea-"

Sirius blinked, and felt her shaking against him. His hand moved up to close on her head, weaving his fingers through her hair. She managed something slightly incoherent - "Thought - never do that again - so fucking scared-" He felt his eyebrows raise of their own accord at her language, which reminded him slightly of a certain teacher they'd recently talked with.

"I - I'm alive," he told her with a shaky smile. "It's okay."

"It wasn't," she told him in a voice that broke something inside of him. "I thought it n-never would be again..."

He slipped his other arm around her, holding her more tightly. "I'm sorry," he said quietly, feeling absolutely wretched and strangely as though he might cry himself. "But you're all right - we're both all right - and that's what counts, isn't it?"

She made a muffled choking noise against his chest. "No. No, that's not what counts, what counts is that I thought I'd lost you again. Do you even know what that felt like? Do you care? I can't remember a lower point in my whole god damn life!"

Sirius felt the inexplicable urge to point out that she'd certainly felt lower when Harry and Ron had died, but it was just not the right time and not the right thing to ever say. So he settled for sitting up with a tired effort, moving his hand to her back and rubbing comforting circles in it, feeling the silken material move with his hand, the robes he'd gotten her and given her early-

He didn't think it was humanly possible to hold someone tighter than he was doing at the moment. But she was still crying, and he still couldn't think of a way to make her feel better. It probably just didn't exist. "Hermione," he told her in a pained voice, "I didn't want you hurt again - why would you even think I'd just stand by and let him do something like that?" And a thought did strike him now as he moved one hand to tilt her chin up toward him pressing his forehead to hers. "I didn't want to lose you," he whispered, confiding his secret to her. "You're worth much more to me than that."

He could feel her trembling still, but her tears had stopped. "You can't say that to me," she told him. "I don't want it. I'd rather you run away and leave me to die than do something so god damned stupid."

At that thought, though, he immediately shook his head. "You're not thinking," he informed her wearily.

"You're fucking right, I'm not," she told him, and this time he knew he detected a little of Draco Malfoy in her. "I don't want to think if it means you dead. I want you alive and I never want you to leave again."

Her words sent a tiny thrill through him, though he knew they weren't meant in the way he wanted. So hard to read, Hermione, because she'd always been such an open person, and you couldn't look for hidden meanings...

"I was so scared," she whispered again, burying her head in him. "So scared..." Hermione seemed unable to find a better way to voice this, inarticulate for what had to be one of a few times in her life.

After a few minutes of rocking her gently and feeling utterly idiotic for it, Sirius said, "And - ah - Peter?"

"Gone," she told him tiredly. "I got him, and the Aurors came to take him- Lupin came this morning, but he was so tired - he said he was expecting you to stay, but not like this-" Her voice broke.

"It's over," he said reassuringly. "You'll never have to see him again." Then - "How did he get in, anyway? He didn't have a wand of his own, and I can't imagine you just letting him in the door like an old friend..." He trailed off as he felt her stiffen.

"You did," he stated flatly, a fury rising in him at the thought of Hermione putting herself into such blind danger, despite the fact that he'd just done it himself. "Of all the moronic-"

"He looked like you!" Hermione burst out. "What reason did I have to doubt you- I-" Her face was ashen, but it colored slightly as she thought of something. "Well, there wasn't even really a chance to protest..."

Sirius looked at her askance, but realized that now was just not the time for lots of questions. She was still trembling, though whether this was from the curses or from her fright, he didn't know. A window was open, shining sunlight into the room-

"It's morning?" he asked blankly.

Hermione sniffled quietly, as though she didn't want him to hear, now of all times.

"You haven't slept," he muttered.

"Would you?" she shot back, wiping at her face.

Well. She had a point.

"Come on then," he said, hauling her to her knees. "There's nothing to do after a near-death experience like play chess."

Hermione rubbed at her eyes, which were red and swollen (a slight pang of guilt hit him), and laughed, laughed much too hard, and he knew she was feeling ridiculous and - more importantly - that she was feeling better. Impulsive things had that effect on her... something warmed inside of him as he realized he had that effect on her. "Yes, you're right, of course. Although the poor things have to be confused after seeing you twice last night..."

Sirius smirked, dropping his hand to her arm and into a less intimate position. "Oh well. Maybe the king'll be scared enough to actually listen to me this time."

Hermione's hair was disheveled, but it was usually in some kind of state thereof. Sirius got to his feet, leaning a bit on her, and forgot to stifle the instinct to brush it out of her eyes, his hand moving up to do so. Her skin was warm to his touch, and he let his fingers linger perhaps just a little longer than they had to as he stared at her uncovered brown eyes.

Her face flamed red, but she said nothing as she sat him down on one side of the board. She moved into the kitchen, though, and came back with two small cups.

"Strengthening potion, a la Malfoy," she muttered unhappily, setting one in front of him. "Apparently, the whole world seems to think a few Unforgivables will kill me after that incident a few years back." She was kind enough not to mention his particular altercation with death, for which he was very much grateful. The subject would have to be put away, just for a little bit, to give them time to stabilize again.

He shook his head. "Well, before we do anything, shouldn't we open presents?" He had a few interesting things to give her, not to mention Malfoy's present-

"Oh. Yes. Presents." Hermione's head came up, and she seemed immensely relieved at the prospect of a diversion from the current subject. "Well I guess we each ended up with one open, so it's not a big deal..."

Hermione looked about for a moment before spotting something on the table. Sirius blinked as she brought it back, handing it to him.

He jumped back as sparks burst from the wand, and various chess pieces dove for cover. His face lit up.

"How in the name of all that's holy-"

"Percy," she said happily. "I went to see him at the office in Diagon Alley - he managed to get it back for me through a few connections - I mean, not the least of which was Arthur-"

Sirius grinned, quite sure it was taking his face off. "Wonderful. God, I feel almost human again!" He waved the wand and Hermione's rumpled robes straightened themselves out, the wrinkles disappearing instantly. She shot him a dazzling smile.

"I- I sort of opened one early," she told him, remembering suddenly. "I hope you don't mind-" She was fingering something at her neck, and he felt his smile widen even further, if it were possible.

"Looks wonderful," he said emphatically. And then, with another flick of his wand, he set the stone in the middle of the crescent moon glowing.

Hermione smiled. "Nice to see you're having fun with one of your presents, at least," she told him.

Sirius didn't reply, but gestured at the other two presents under the tree, sending them flying toward her. Hermione caught them deftly, face scrunched up as she tried to imagine what might be in them-

"So open one," he muttered, amused.

She chuckled and began to tear at the paper. The next one made her gape in surprise - stargazers, of course, charmed to stay fresh. They earned him an absolutely flabbergasted and simultaneously delighted look that sent tingles down his spine.

Hermione insisted that he open his own presents before she went any further though, and he found that she hadn't disappointed at all. A small baying dog pin shone at him - he put it on immediately, grinning, as he opened the last present. His face turned surprised, though, as he took in the book she'd gotten him.

Wizards' Chess - a Complete Guide to Opening Moves

He chuckled. "What are you going to do if I read everything on the Queen's Pawn?" he asked. "You'll be out of luck!"

Hermione grinned. "I'll have to brush up, then, won't I?"

As she bickered pleasantly with him, she tugged at the paper of her last present absently - but when she looked down, her face froze.

Sirius inwardly cursed himself. "I'm sorry," he said, "I just saw it and thought- well, it's fine, I'll get you something else-"

"No!" she said hurriedly. "No, it- it's wonderful."

A picture in a frame showed her younger self waving happily at her from the kitchen of Grimmauld Place, while a scowling Sirius tried to escape her iron grip on his arm. Harry and Ron were arguing in the background over a game of Wizards' Chess - Harry was holding a rook underneath the table in one hand, trying his best to look innocent while Mrs. Weasley scolded Ron for being a poor sport.

Hermione laughed. "I remember taking this now. Didn't I have to drag you into it?"

Sirius shrugged. "Possibly. You got the end result, though, didn't you?"

She smiled shyly at him. "Yes, I suppose I did." He froze, and she ducked her head, embarrassed. "I- what did Malfoy have you bring?" she asked suddenly.

The dark-haired wizard's mouth fell open. "Oh- oh no, I forgot- she's going to be furious-"

Hermione blinked as he ran into the front entry way. He almost laughed at her face as she realized what he was talking about.

A tawny owl glared at him with wide amber eyes, hooting angrily. Hermione bit back a laugh and moved to help him with the cage. The owl glanced at her appraisingly before sidling up to the bars and nipping at her hand.

"What's the name?" she asked him.

"Not sure," Sirius shrugged, trying to ignore the owl's hoot of protest. "I'm sure it's something suitably Malfoy-ish, so we can go ahead and forget it."

Hermione smiled. "Oh, I think I can safely guess Narcissa."

The owl hooted imperiously, and she chuckled. "Yes, I suppose that is it." She set the cage down and moved for the bag of food that Malfoy had sent with it, refilling the food tray and opening the cage to let the poor thing out for a bit of air. It swooped out majestically, picking at Sirius' hair irritably before settling in front of Hermione expectantly. She frowned at it.

"What?" she asked it.

It pecked at her hand, not ungently, and twitched its head at Sirius. She put a hand to her mouth in realization.

"Oh!" she said, surprised. "Oh! I see." And got up to rummage through a desk in the corner of the room, pulling out a pen and paper...

Sirius watched her curiously as she brought the rolled makeshift note to the owl and tied it to its leg, drawing her hand over its feathers affectionately. "Smart thing, aren't you? He give you orders to have me tell him when he woke up?"

Narcissa seemed to puff up at this compliment, confirming her statement. She smiled wanly. "He will tell the others, won't he? Lupin in particular, I should hope..." The owl didn't seem as sure of this statement, so Hermione clucked her tongue. "Bug him until he does. You're under my orders now, remember?"

The owl seemed to agree with her, as it hooted once, taking on the mission. Hermione tapped it once on the beak before letting it out her window with a sigh of relief. Sirius decided, wisely, he thought, not to comment. She sat back down, not quite meeting his eyes and now looking overly intently at her own pieces.

His king was indeed looking at him suspiciously when they made to start. "Well. So you are back," the piece stated unhappily. "Thought the last time you tried to ravish her would set her on guard, but no..."

Sirius thought about ignoring him. Then decided to start an argument, because he really felt like one. "It was just a kiss," he told the piece irritatedly. "No one was trying to ravish anyone."

Hermione's head fell into her arms, embarrassed.

"Sure looked like you were trying hard enough," the piece tsked. Then paused. "Oh wait. That was the Pettigrew fellow, wasn't it? Just looked like you-"

Sirius choked and shot a glance at the back of Hermione's head. Her hair had spilled out of its band during the night and was now covering any possible view he might have had of her face.

"Hermione?" he asked, shocked.

She muttered something miserably, but he couldn't hear it.

"What?" he asked.

"Pettigrew is a bastard and we can very easily leave it at that, can't we?" she asked hopefully, just loud enough to have him hear.

"I suppose," he muttered reluctantly, although he really wanted to pursue the subject. Hermione was looking absolutely wretched, and it was partially for his sake, so he swallowed his questions with effort. He was swelling in fury, though, at the thought of the rat impersonating him and doing anything to her under his guise-

And, despite his prior resolution, he found himself asking, strained, "Did he- did he kiss you?"

Hermione didn't respond, but he was certain he saw her trying desperately to disappear into the floor. Sirius' jaw tightened. "How far did he get, Hermione?" he said in a deadly voice. "I'll kill him, they can't have done it yet- forcing himself as though he were me-"

"He didn't," she said meekly, and he almost didn't catch it.

He sighed in relief. "It was just the one, then?"

But she was moaning into her arms. "No, that's not it, you don't understand-"

Sirius felt a kind of dread seize him. "Which is it, Hermione? Tell me!" He felt the urge to apologize to her, even though it hadn't been him. To assure her that he never would have done any such thing, but to bite back the part where he might tell her he was slightly in love with her in any case...

"Please don't make me say this," she pleaded, and he could tell she was near tears again. "I can't take it, not so soon-"

"He did," Sirius said, standing up immediately, shaking with rage and weariness all at once. "Where are they keeping the bastard, I'll rip his guts out! I'll kill the little fucking rat-"

"No!" Hermione told him hoarsely, looking up with a pained and abjectly humiliated face - an expression he'd only spied a handful of times, the times she'd told him of her darkest inadequacies. "Damnit, you don't understand! He- he was probably going to... and I probably would have let him, if I hadn't- hadn't figured it out-"

Sirius froze, gaping at her, and she stood up too now, swaying and putting her hand to her face. "Oh god," she breathed. "I think I'm going to be sick."

And she ran for the bathroom.

He stood, absolutely stunned, unable to follow her, unable even to feel the concern he might normally.

Hermione did not come back, though. And he had an uneasy feeling that she wasn't going to, that she was utterly terrified of ever facing him again.

"You should go after her, you know," Hermione's queen said, annoyed.

Sirius blinked dazedly.

"Really, you're awful with women from what I can tell," she continued. "Go on, before she thinks she's daft."

Sirius tried to understand why, precisely, Hermione would want him to see her after such a debilitating confession, and failed. But he found himself walking back through the hallway anyway, trying to listen for signs of her in one of the rooms. Surprisingly, she was not in the bathroom. Since the closet was a very unlikely place, he suspected she was in her room. Especially as the door was closed and locked.

Feeling very stupid and somewhat violating, he brought his wand to bear on it, unlocking it and slipping inside the darkened room.

She was there, in point of fact, curled in upon herself, her hands covering her face hopelessly.

"H-Hermione," he tried, but it came out a bit strained.

She didn't look at him, but was trembling uncontrollably. "I didn't want to tell you," she whispered, and he could hear the tangible despair in her voice. "Lupin will be wanting to see you, I'm sure he won't mind if you stayed with him- there's - there's some extra floo powder by the fireplace, and your things are still packed-"

He walked closer to the bed, expression still slightly shocked as he dropped down next to her. She flinched as his hand touched her knee.

"Why would I want to go stay with Lupin?" he asked guardedly.

Hermione quivered. "B-because- you'll probably want to go somewhere- and he's probably the best choice-"

"I understand," he said quietly, pulling back his hand as though he'd been burned. She wouldn't want him touching her, most likely. Something dropped in his stomach. Hermione wanted him to leave. "If - if that's how you want it, I suppose I can go."

He got to his feet and walked back to the door, but found he couldn't leave. Hermione's posture was that of a person on the edge, just waiting to be alone so she could collapse into hysteria. He couldn't leave her like that, not even when he knew his staying would most likely make things worse.

So he swallowed and moved to her, putting his hands on her shoulders again. "I do care about you, Hermione," he told her. "Quite a bit. If there's anything, anything I can do at all- I'd stay and do something, if I thought it would make things any better."

She hesitated and looked up at him, now, through a thin curtain of hair.

"What are you talking about?" she asked. "I thought you'd naturally want to- to leave-"

His brow creased. "Why would I want to do that?" Sirius asked her, surprised.

Hermione's face colored a deep crimson. "Because I just all but admitted I wanted to- well that I like you in that- you know what I mean!"

He didn't know, actually. But he could certainly guess. And he found himself suddenly very much aware of her heat, soaking through to his hands, that if he wanted, he could close the gap between them in one step, and that he was very hungry in a way that didn't involve his stomach in the least.

"Oh," he said. But he didn't move.

She was looking at him with a very embarrassed face, and he realized he probably ought to speak or do something to reassure her. The only thing that came to mind, though, was the fact that he really wanted to kiss her. That there was no clear reason not to. And finally - yes. Yes, that would work.

He leaned in crossed the distance between them and kissed her - hard.

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Hermione wanted to die. Really, very truly, wanted to just keel over at that moment and never have to face Sirius Black ever again. The awful man had just made her admit verbally twice now that she'd have him do whatever he wanted with her, that she'd nearly gotten them both killed because she wanted him to be that for her so badly that she'd believed Pettigrew when he'd dangled it in front of her.

And now, he was standing in front of her, slightly stunned, as though this fact had never even occurred to him.

And Hermione reiterated to herself: she wanted to die.

Sirius was moving now, and she nearly missed it. Moving toward her, possibly to ask her what in god's name she was thinking-

Except that he was pressing his lips to hers.

She gasped involuntarily against him, tumbling backward as he leaned forward and pressed her arms into the bed beneath with crushing force. At the opening of her mouth, he took immediate advantage, delving hungrily into her with such ferocity she thought she had to be dreaming. Therefore, she felt no guilt whatsoever in straining against his grip and wrenching an arm free to throw around his back, pulling him closer to press against her. A thrill shocked through her where his fingers were suddenly leaving burning trails on her cheeks, down her neck-

"I'm going insane," she told him.

He cut her off with a harder, deeper kiss. "Then so am I," he gasped.

She took this as what she could get - before he could change his mind and pull away or some such thing, her hand pressed into the back of his head, tangling in his hair, pulling his mouth back down to hers. He avoided it, though, and moved his mouth to the place just below her ear, down the column of her neck. She shuddered, pushing up against him as his hand moved the top of her robe aside to let him place a burning brand to her collarbone.

Hermione laughed, giddy - she leaned up against him and brushed her lips against his jaw line, feeling her stomach flutter as his grip tightened on her. Sirius groaned, pulling her face back to his. "You're going to kill me," he told her - and his mouth pressed down on hers again, slow and possessive; Hermione tightened her fingers in his shirt with a small moan.

But he pulled away suddenly, his familiar and comforting weight still pressing down on her, but his eyes studying her and watching her like smoldering embers. "I'm going to leave in a few days," he said, swallowing, watching her face. She knew it was changing, despite her best efforts, to a hurt and slightly betrayed expression. Sirius leaned down again, brushing his lips over her forehead. "I want you to come with me."

Hermione blinked. "Wh- what?"

Sirius smirked slowly at her, even as his hand trailed down to grasp her hip. "Moony told me Grimmauld Place is still in my name. I could make something nice of it, maybe. I was hoping you'd let me repay you for all your help-" She felt her breath escape her with a flutter of hope inside her. "-maybe by staying with me for a while."

She made a show of pondering this for a moment. His expression turned calculating, waiting for an answer-

Hermione licked her lips. "I think I could be persuaded," she said hopefully.

Sirius' eyes darkened, looking her over. "I could manage that, I think," he told her. One hand moved up her back and across her neck to knead into her scalp, sending a shudder through her.

Then-

"You know," Hermione said unhappily. "Prott's going to hold this over my head for the longest time."

Sirius laughed and kissed her again.