Reuniting

Wednesday, September 2^nd, 2000, London, England

Hermione Granger, the twenty-year-old War Hero and Head of Society For the Protection of Elvish Welfare, was tired. She hadn't had any sleep in forty-eight hours, but her report was finished. She could just take a short nap, fifteen minutes tops. She leaned over and rested her head on the pile of paperwork in front of her. Her eyelids fluttered before shutting lightly. Her breathing slowed until it became a pattern, and he slipped into a dream world.

~~~

She walked down the stairs, intent on having something warm to lull her to sleep. As she neared the kitchen, she noticed the light was on. She went in to find Sirius sitting at the table, clad only in boxer shorts.

"Oh, Hermione," he said, embarrassed. "Sorry, I didn't know anyone else was coming... otherwise I would have," he blushed, "put on some trousers."

"It's ok, Sirius," she heard herself say. "I guess I'm not the only one who can't sleep." She fidgeted, fingering her tank top. Since it was a warm night, she had opted for a tank top that, now as she thought about it, was very tight, and a pair of very short pajama shorts. "I just came down for some hot chocolate, or something." She dragged her gaze from his chest, which was no longer frail and bony.

Sirius ran a hand through his thick shaggy black hair and grinned, running his eyes up her body when he thought she wasn't looking, but was watching him in the corner of her eye. "Yeah. I made some earlier, and was thinking of having some more." He rose. "Need any help?"

"That'd be nice," she replied, voice wavering very slightly. She looked in his eyes. They were deep, and had hidden sorrows in them that reflected in the very walls around them.

He broke the contact, and put a kettle on the burner. She reached over his shoulder to take the box of mix down from a high shelf. It was, unfortunately, too short for her five foot six frame. Sirius smirked, and easily plucked the round canister from the high shelf, handing it to her. "Here," he said. Their fingers brushed and Hermione felt something almost electrical in feeling spark in the scant second. Her eyes flicked back to his.

He was already looking down at her. Her breath caught in her throat. After a few moments, he coughed, and went over to the refrigerator and took the milk out. "D'you need any milk?" he asked. "It helps the chocolate to cool faster."

She smiled. "Thanks. That's thoughtful."

He laughed. "Of course it is. That's my middle name. Sirius "Thoughtful" Black."

She laughed, and shoved him, fingers lingering on his collarbone a second longer than necessary. He caught her hands, and pulled her to him, trapping her arms against his body. She was helpless, he had her disarmed.

Their eyes locked. This time neither looked away. She leaned forward, hesitantly. But it was him who closed the distance, catching her lips in his, pressing softly.

She dug her fingers into his hair, and he sat down, pulling her into his lap-

~~~

"Hermione?" came an outside voice. Hermione woke up.

"Yes?" she asked, a bit groggy.

Dean Thomas looked at her a bit worried. "Are you all right?"

"Yeah, Dean." Hermione yawned. "I'm going to present this report, and then I'm going home. I need to sleep."

"Ok, Hermione. See you in a few days, then." Dean grinned cheerily and walked back to his office.

Hermione left her office in the House-Elf Liaison office in the Ministry of Magic. She walked down the hall, and knocked on the Head of the Department's door.

"Come in," called a slightly stressed voice. Hermione swung open the door of Emily Fernend's office and walked in.

"Hi, Emily," Hermione said. She sat down, and put a folder on Emily's desk. "I am officially giving you this report, and informing you I'm not coming in for the rest of the week. I've spent the last two days here, finishing this blasted report, and I've got to go home and rest." She let out a huge yawn to prove the point.

Emily smiled, and laughed. "Of course you can go home, Hermione," she said. "Just tell Lance before you go, so he'll be ready to do your paperwork."

"Ok," Hermione said, leaving. Lance Greenberg was her second-in-command and was in the office next to hers. She walked to Lance's office, and poked her head in. "Hey, Lance." Lance looked up from his roll of parchment. "I'm going home for the rest of the week, fill in for me, please. My schedule is on my desk. See you on Monday."

Hermione grabbed her purse from her office and walked to the fireplace that was in the Department's collective lobby, took a handful of Floo powder from the flowerpot on the mantle and threw it into the fireplace. "Hermione Granger's flat!" she said, stepping into the fireplace.

***

Hermione stepped out of her fireplace and walked over to a chair and took off her coat and threw it on the chair. She rubbed her eyes, yawning.

Remembering her date with Ron, she sighed and made a face. If he showed up, she'd just cancel.

Leaving the living room, she went into her bedroom, and put on her pajamas. She climbed into bed and went to sleep.

~~~

The next day she came downstairs fully dressed. She sat down at the breakfast table, yawning. Ginny looked at her, puzzled.

"Hermione," she said. Hermione looked up. "How can you be tired? You went to bed at nine. That's hours before the rest of us."

She glanced down the table at Sirius through her hair. He was watching her, smiling. "I couldn't sleep, Ginny."

"Oh." Ginny went back to her porridge.

After breakfast, Ginny went upstairs to talk with Ron and the twins, and Hermione volunteered to wash the dishes.

"Good morning," said a low voice. She turned around. Sirius was standing directly behind her, so close she could smell his aftershave.

"Morning," she said. She blinked, trying to focus on anything but his lips.

"So, I heard you talking to Ginny this morning," he said, a grin forming on his face.

"Really?" she asked, trying to edge away. He moved with her, pinning her in a corner.

"It's ok," he said. "They're all on the other side of the mansion, we're alone." Relief crossed her face. His hand came up to brush a curl from her eyes. "Tired? Couldn't sleep?" He let out a small laugh, leaning close to her face. "More like you were too busy kissing me to go back to your bedroom to sleep," he reminded her.

At this, she looked up. The instant she did, he kissed her. She leaned into him, savoring the moment.

Footsteps echoed down the hall, and he jumped away after pressing against her once more. He leaped to the sink and started scrubbing a pot that she handed him. She looked up as Ron patted her shoulder.

"Hermione?" Ron asked, ears a bit red. "Could you help me with the Potions essay?"

She looked at Sirius, who nodded at her. "Go ahead," he said, smiling. "You'll be done soon. Once you finish, you could help me start lunch." He grinned broadly, as if he had a secret.

She rolled her eyes, following Ron back to his room.

Ron's essay finished, she went back to the kitchen. She found a note on the table, with her name written on the top.

Hermione, it said.

I'm in the library, near the back, where the maps of British Columbia are.

~Sirius

She tossed the letter in the fire and hurried down the hall to the library. She opened the door, and made sure no one was in the hallway before closing it quietly.

She walked quietly to the back and saw his black mane sticking over the back of a dark blue velvet upholstered chair.

"Hello," she said quietly. He turned, and rose.

He walked a few steps over to her, and wrapped his arms around her waist. "Hello there," he whispered into her ear.

She closed her eyes. "What if we get caught?" she asked. "What if Harry or Ron or Mrs. Weasley walk in?"

He pressed his finger to her lips. "Shh. They won't. If they do," he shrugged, "we'll deal with it."

"Sirius," she whispered, pressing her face into his shirt. "This is wrong. You're-- you're so much older than me!"

He put his finger underneath her chin, raising it so she looked into his eyes. "Does it feel wrong? Or is it what society tells you?"

Her answer was to press her lips to his. She leaned into him, pressing harder.

~~~

"Hermione?" Ron's voice drifted through her ears to her sleep-filled brain.

She stirred, and rubbed her eyes. "What, Ron?" She looked up into her boyfriend's face.

He smiled, sitting on her bed, and stroked her face. She turned away, thinking about her dream.

"Are you ready for dinner?" he asked, taking her hand in his, stroking it with his fingers.

"I don't think I'll be going, Ron," Hermione said, not really liking his touch. "I'm too tired. I haven't slept for days, and I've got the rest of the week off to just re-energize. Maybe some other time, ok?"

"Ok," he said. He leaned down and kissed her gently on the lips. "See you in a few days."

He left, and she heard the door close as he shut it behind him.

She got up and went into the kitchen, preparing to make some tea. She opened a photo album she had left in the kitchen two weeks ago, after looking for a photo while on the phone and making some tea. She flipped through the wizard photos until she set eyes upon one photo.

It had been taken shortly after she had arrived at Grimmauld place. She was standing in the foyer, with her arm around Sirius's shoulders, his around her shoulders. In the photo, they moved around, dancing and jumping. She stared at Sirius who was grinning like an idiot, and tickling her photo self.

Hermione slammed the book shut, a tear escaping her full eyes. She crumpled up, sitting with her back against the oven, tears running down her cheeks.

"Why?" she sobbed.

She cried until she had no more tears, and then stood up, wiping her nose. She poured the hot water from the boiling kettle into a giant mug, with the raspberry tea bag floating on the top. She went into the living room and sat on the couch, drinking her tea.

She thought of the night he died. Everyone thought she was still unconscious, but she had come out of it for a moment to see his last moments. She remembered everything seeming to stop as he fell. She knew he wouldn't come back, but a small part of her hoped. It was a few weeks later that it truly hit her. She had broken down, no one could guess why. It was then that she and Ron had bonded. He had comforted her, and she had been grateful. They had been dating ever since.

But she knew, deep down, that she would never truly love Ron the way he loved her.

She got up and went back to bed, fearing what she would think of if she remained there, remembering.

***

The next day she woke happier. She hadn't dreamed that night.

She decided to go to Diagon Alley to find a new book to read. She Apparated there, appearing in front of Flourish & Blotts. She smiled at the familiar store. She entered the store and went to the history section.

She went to a shelf with old, dusty tomes and picked one off randomly. Blowing on the cover, she laughed when she read the title. 'The History of the Department of Mysteries.'

She immediately opened the cover. Faintly, she could see a name written on the page in front of her. She walked into a more lighted area to see what it was. She brought the book closer to her face, squinting to see the faded letters.

Sirius Black

She laughed again, a memory surfacing in her mind.

&&&&

She was reading a text that was never available in the library at Hogwarts in the back of the library in Grimmauld Place.

Someone sat down opposite her, and she looked up.

"Sirius," she said, smiling warmly.

"Hermione," he replied. "What're you reading?"

"The History of the Department of Mysteries," she told him. "I've been wanting to read it for a very long time, but the library at Hogwarts never has it." She went back to reading.

Suddenly, the book was pulled away from her hands. "Come on, Hermione," Sirius said playfully, "come play cards with me. You can read later, I promise."

"But, Sirius," she started.

"I won't take no for an answer." He turned his charm on fully.

Her mouth twitched. "All right, Sirius," she said. "But just this once."

&&&&

She smiled at the memory. It had been a few days after she had arrived at Grimmauld Place, and she had found this book she had wanted so badly to read, and Sirius had charmed her into playing a few rounds of Exploding Snap.

A few tears dripping down her face. She went to the cashier and bought the book, smiling broadly.

Leaving the store a slightly familiar patch of shaggy black hair on top of a pair of broad shoulders were walking away from her, in a well-remembered gait.

Her breath caught. She ran after him, arm outstretched. She caught the man's shoulder and turned him around. It wasn't who she was thinking of.

"I-- I'm sorry," she said to the man. "I thought you were someone else."

***

She Apparated back to her flat and curled up in bed to read the book. She didn't know how the book had made its way back to her years after the first time she read it in that library. Perhaps Harry had sold some of the older, dustier books.

After reading till eleven thirty, she put the book on her nightstand, with her favorite bookmark marking her place. She turned off her lamp and rolled over, going to sleep.

~~~

It had been a hot day. So hot, she had put on her shortest shorts and a spaghetti-strapped top, with her hair piled on top of her head.

She stood in the back of the library, fanning herself, trying to catch a breeze from an open window. Sweat dripped down her back, pooling before evaporating. A single bead of sweat fell off her chin, down her shirt. She was hot and sticky, it felt horrible.

A pair of cool hands wound themselves around her waist, turning her to face their owner. He stood there, button-down shirt halfway open revealing his toned chest.

"They've gone to pick up Harry," he said, pulling her closer, kissing her forehead.

"I know," she said, wrapping her arms around his neck, breathing in his scent. His mouth kissed her temple before making its way to hers.

"You know what that means, don't you?" he murmured against her skin. "We'll have to be even more careful."

She kissed his throat. "I know. But we won't... stop, will we?" She looked into his eyes, fearing his response.

"No." He kissed her, pulling her even closer. "Never. But we can't tell anyone, you know that." His eyes met hers. "Not until you're eighteen."

"But that's three years!" she cried. He nuzzled her neck affectionately.

"But it will fly by," he assured her. "We'll make it, you'll see."

"How do you know?"

~~~

She woke up with a start. Glancing at her clock, she saw that it was three in the morning. She sighed, and rested her head against her palms.

"Why won't you go away?" she asked an invisible dead man. "Why can't you let me be?"

A faint whisper answered her: Because I love you.

She looked up and spotted her reflection in her mirror. For a fleeting second, she saw him sitting behind her, kissing her neck affectionately. She turned sharply, but it was only a trick of her mind.

She glanced at a photo on her nightstand. It was of her, Harry, Ron, and him. She, Harry, and Ron were sitting on a couch. She was in the middle. He was leaning over the back, hand on Harry's shoulder, and half-hugging her. The figures in the photo changed. Sometimes he and Harry were wrestling, with her yelling at them and Ron rooting them on. Sometimes they just stood there, but he would lean down and kiss her head, she would glance back up at him like he was nuts and Harry would smack him.

Sighing, she pulled out a bottle of Dreamless Sleep potion. She swallowed a mouthful, and replaced the cap. She switched off her lamp, and went back to sleep.

***

It was Friday.

That was her first thought upon waking. Her second was that she had not dreamed again.

She laughed aloud, and got up. As she dressed, a whiff of faintly familiar cologne drifted in through the window. She sighed, closing her eyes.

~~~

She was sitting on his bed. He was dressing for dinner, as the Order had decided to have a "dress up" night. He had managed to make her help him pick out some clothes.

At the moment, he was wearing a pair of ratty jeans, and a plaid long-sleeved t-shirt. He came over to her, holding a pair of black dress pants and grinning like he'd won the lottery. He leaned over and kissed her, a slow, lingering kiss. He had put on almost half the bottle of cologne and she had teased him mercilessly about it. He retaliated with the statement that she loved his cologne, so who cared? At that moment, she'd grabbed his collar and kissed him until neither of them had any breath left.

"So," he asked, holding the pants up, "what do you think?"

She was wearing a long, three-tiered red velvet skirt and a long-sleeved white blouse. Her legs were stretched out before her, and she was leaning against his pillows, breathing in his scent, letting it wash over her.

"I think that they're lovely," she said, smiling, smelling his pillows again. She sighed contentedly.

"Are you smelling my pillows?" he asked, amused.

"Yes," she said, not opening her eyes.

She felt the bed move, and opened her eyes to see him leaning over her, hands right by her shoulders. "Has anyone ever told you that the real thing is better?" he asked her, voice low and gravelly.

"No," she whispered. He leaned in and kissed her, a fire-filled and passionate kiss. Her eyes snapped open. Someone was coming!

By the time the footsteps reached them, and the door creaked open, Sirius was back at his closet, suggesting shirts. Remus came in, looking amused.

"Hermione," he said, "if you're going to dress Ken up, don't forget to brush his hair." He laughed at his subtle reference to dolls and left, to perhaps get ready for dinner.

Sirius looked back at her from the closet and started laughing. She joined in, suddenly finding their narrow avoidance of discovery a laughable thing.

~~~

She laughed, and put on a pair of jeans. She fingered through her closet until she found what she was looking for. It was only a shirt, but to her, it was so much more.

On her birthday in fifth year, the day she turned fifteen, an unfamiliar owl had left her a package outside her dormitory window. She had unwrapped it that evening, and discovered a plaid shirt reeking of his cologne. She had breathed in his scent, feeling like he was sitting next to her, whispering a joke into her ear.

She pulled the shirt out and slipped it on, buttoning it up and breathing in the still-present smell of his cologne. To her, it was his presence comforting her. She wore it whenever she missed him. She went to her fireplace and threw some floo powder into it. "Grimmauld Place!" she cried, stepping into the hearth.

***

She arrived in a back fireplace, as she had intended. She went up the back staircase and walked down a well-known hallway until she reached where she was going. His room. She opened the door, and stepped into it.

She looked around, closing the door behind her. Nothing had been moved since his... death. She saw the photo of him, James, Remus and Lily. Peter's face had been erased, she remembered Sirius casually mentioning when he had done it.

She walked to his closet and opened the doors. His smell, his presence swept over her like a flood. She took a deep breath, and pulled out a few of his favorite shirts. They were the rattiest, but they held the most memories. She left most of them, but took some flannel plaid shirts he had liked. Closing the door lightly, she left his room and retreated back to the unused fireplace. She took a handful of powder out of the urn on the mantle, and threw it into the fireplace.

"Hermione Granger's flat," she said, stepping into the fireplace.

As she disappeared, Harry turned the corner. He though he had heard something. Shaking his head, he decided that it had just been creaking of an old house.

When she arrived at her flat, she hung the shirts up in her closet and went to watch a DVD. Deciding she needed a laugh, she picked Monty Python's And Now For Something Completely Different.

Watching it, she laughed herself hoarse, and decided, upon the movie's ending, to go out for lunch.

She determined that Diagon Alley was the best place for a young witch to get some lunch, and Apparated there. She walked lazily down the rows of shops until she saw a restaurant that looked promising. She went in and sat down. A waiter handed her a menu, and she asked for a drink.

As she was reading the menu, she glanced up, feeling someone's eyes on her. Her eyes met a pair of dark orbs that were across the room. The man they belonged to stood up and walked over, playful grin on his face spreading across his features. She blinked, and he was gone.

***

She went back to work that Monday, and sighed as she sat down at her desk. Someone knocked on her office door. "Come in," she called.

Lance opened her door, looking a bit frantic. "Hermione, come on. They're saying that there's a huge commotion coming from a room in Mysteries."

She jumped up and ran past him, ducking into the elevator, cutting Emily off. "Mysteries," she muttered to herself frantically, jiggling as she waited for the lift to get to the desired floor.

She waited for a few floors before the elevator dinged, then she ran out of it, almost colliding with Ron, who was visiting someone in Sport and Games, she knew because Lance had mentioned it to her that morning, because Ron had left a message at their secretary's desk. Not looking back at him, and ignoring his voice, she followed the crowd to the room with the veil.

Pushing her way to the front of the crowd, she stopped, watching the veil intently. Though the Mysteries department employees tried to disperse the crowd, they were just repulsed. The crowd held their breath collectively as a curved stone fell from the top of its archway, then another, and after half an hour of slowly elevated rumbling, the curtain parted.

Several people came out. She held her breath. Ron appeared next to her. One last person came out. It was him. He was no older than he had been five years ago. He was, if anything, younger. His hair was shaggier, and he looked a bit stunned.

He saw the crowd, and his eyes were searching for something. They fell upon her, and a lazy, predatory grin spread across his features.

She stepped out of the crowd. Slowly, she made her way to him and entered the protective circle of his arms. She lifted her head to look into his eyes, and they kissed for a long moment. When they parted, he picked her up and whirled her around, laughing and kissing her. Her eyes fell on Ron for an instant, and she saw his crushed and hurt expression.

"Ron," she said, walking over to him, still holding Sirius's hand. "I'm sorry. It's just, well, it was always Sirius. You knew that, didn't you? When we started dating, didn't you?"

Ron nodded solemnly. His eyes hardened as he looked at Sirius, but they were still happy in a way. "Welcome back, mate. I'll go get Harry."

Sirius eyed Hermione. "We'll meet you back at Hermione's place."