Grecian Holiday

***

Hermione stood, eyes wide, and lower lip trembling. What had she done? She'd merely mentioned the Dementors...Now that she thought of it, it probably would be terrifying and confusing to her as well, if she'd almost received the Dementor's Kiss and was a convict on the run.

But...she'd never seen him act like this before. Hermione ticked off the times she'd spent with Sirius before this summer. Christmas during fifth year, with Harry and Ron at Remus' house, a couple of Hogsmeade weekends in sixth...

She hardly knew him at all. Never even bothered to learn anything at all. He was almost a stranger, in the sense that she knew nothing about his past.

Then why did he make her feel like she was about to cry?

***

Sirius paced around his room furiously. Why the hell did Hermione have to go and mention that the Dementors could change their course to the South? Sure, she hadn't meant to, but the memory of cold, skeletal fingers on his throat back in her third year wasn't easily forgotten...neither were the twelve years in Azkaban.

He sat on the bed, and pushed the heels of his hands into his forehead, and kneading it. He should apologize to Hermione, it wasn't really her fault, she couldn't have known all the pain he'd gone through in the last war.

Problem was, Sirius didn't really have polished apology skills. It was almost hell when he had to apologize to Snape for almost leading him to a fully grown werewolf. However, that seemed like a piece of cake compared to asking forgiveness from a girl. And a probably confused one at that.

Sirius pulled a tattered picture out of the pocket of his jeans. It had been creased and folded many times, the edges clearly worn. The figures in it waved, and tears of anger welled up in Sirius' eyes. It was his graduation, with Lily, James, Remus, and...Peter, all standing by him. And it was all Peter's fault that he had to go through this...this pain...

Why am I thinking of Lily and James, when Hermione first spoke of Dementors? Sirius shook his head to clear thought.

Because she reminds you of Lily, spoke another side of his conscience. Sirius let out a cry of frustration, and pounded the bed so hard it shook.

Life back at Hogwarts was so easy...there was always that ever present threat of Voldemort, but it hadn't concerned him as much as it was now. One notion lay in the back of Sirius' mind.

Why me?

***

"Why, 'ello, Mina. Where's that Mark feller yer with?" Hermione had entered the Gin 'n' Tonic alone, leaving early the following morning, not quite ready to face Sirius. Tabby had just wiped her hands on a rag, and was now leaning against the bar, waiting for Hermione's reply.

"O-oh, Mark..." Hermione trailed off. "Er---we---we had a fight last night. So I'm keeping my distance for a bit."

She hoped that would be a good enough answer for Tabby. Tabby, however, didn't seem as convinced as Hermione would've hoped. Of course she'd be the bartender with the McGonagall lying radar.

"A'right," said Tabby, giving Hermione a hard glance. "I'll believe ye this time. And yer here a might early, aren't ye?"

"Thought it'd be easier to deal with the whole fight later," answered Hermione honestly. "Too difficult to figure out when my mind's all jumbled up."

"Has Mina got a spot of boy trouble?" Astrid had just entered the room, hair all messed up, and lips swollen. Hermione rolled her eyes. How obvious could you get?

"No," said Hermione tersely, pulling her frizzy hair back in a loose bun. "I'm perfectly fine, thanks for asking."

"Not that anybody would get close enough to you to have any trouble with anyways," sniffed Astrid. "You're absolutely hideous."

Hermione opened her mouth to say something, but she was too enraged to do so. She tried to speak, but nothing came out.

"Cat got your tongue, Mina?" asked Astrid slyly. Hermione was hit with a wave of fury, but kept her mouth shut.

"Leave 'er be, Astrid," warned Tabby. "She's 'ad a rough day, and don' need ye ta add to it."

Hermione went behind the bar, and started preparing drinks for the evening, slamming cabinets as she went. It wasn't her nature to have outbursts, but at the moment, that was exactly what she felt like doing.

"If you hit those any harder, they'll fall off their hinges." Hermione hit her head inside a cabinet as she tried to straighten up, and rubbed it.

Sirius was standing behind her, hands in his pockets. For some reason, he looked distinctly uncomfortable.

"Oh, it's you." Hermione almost bit her tongue at the manner she was using, but she was stubborn. She wasn't simply going to forgive Sirius for yelling at her the day before when she hadn't known the reaction she would provoke. "The glasses are all set, all you have to do is pour the drinks. I'm going to go and give Tabby a break from the register."

Sirius almost recoiled from the icy tone she gave him. Smart girl, picked it up from McGonagall, most likely.

However, he learned not to pursue any female creature when brushed off. It tended to have failing results, such as a slap in the face.

Sirius began to pour the drinks for the customers to distract himself. This was going to be one long night.

***

Hermione punched the buttons on the cash register, her chest heaving with frustration and anger. The fact that he had even tried to apologize, and look as though he was the one being victimized...

She knew she probably was thinking irrationally, but at the moment, she wasn't sure, and to tell the truth, she really didn't care.

Astrid sauntered by, with a tray balanced in each hand, and smirked at Hermione, causing the bushy-haired girl to almost snarl. Hermione put on a false façade when a wizened old man came up to pay for his drinks, moments after Astrid left from her sight.

This continued on all through the night: Hermione swallowing her aggravation, avoiding Sirius' gaze, and not looking at Astrid whenever she passed by.

At about midnight, Hermione threw her apron in the back room, yelled a goodbye to Tabby, and ran swiftly back to the villa. Thankfully, since she'd arrived hours earlier than her shift, she was able to leave before she usually could.

She went into the kitchen, threw her light coat over a chair, and began furiously pacing the room, talking animatedly to herself.

"I can't believe his reaction, it wasn't my fault at all, he just overreacted and now he's trying to apologize, who does he think he is--"

"I don't know, really." Hermione jumped as Sirius' voice answered her own absurdity. She turned and saw him, leaning against the counter, looking truly sorry.

"What do you mean, you don't know?" hissed Hermione. "You went and--why am I even bothering to explain? You yelled at me when I didn't know the reaction you would give, and I was just concerned, and you didn't give a damn!"

Sirius waited until she was finished, and paused in thought for a moment. Finally, he cleared his throat and spoke, looking as though he had just been a child scolded by a Professor.

"I'm sorry." Whatever Hermione was expecting, it wasn't that. She had even hoped for a bit of an outburst from Sirius, just to know if he was feeling the same frustration she was. But for him to just go outright and apologize--she hadn't anticipated that.

"What?"

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to act like that earlier. You're just the first person who's mentioned the Dementors since your third year. Honestly, I wasn't quite capable of discussing the topic in a mature manner."

This Hermione couldn't believe. An adult, specifically Sirius, telling her he was sorry and admitting that he wasn't able to handle the past alone.

She opened her mouth slightly, as if to speak, but then closed it, puzzled at what she could say to him. Sirius noticed, and bit his lip.

"We probably need to sit down, and talk this out," he suggested, scratching the back of his head. She nodded, and led the way into the sitting room.

Sirius stretched out in the armchair, Hermione across from him, eyes pleading for an answer to an unknown question.

They both sat in silence, both trying to comprehend what they would say to the other. Finally, Hermione cleared her throat.

"Where do we begin?" She looked very lost. "I-I don't really know where to start."

"Neither do I."

"Well, that doesn't do us a lot of good, does it? We could start with why the Dementors make you so incredibly uncomfortable."

"How about I lock you up in the most inhumane place possible and set the soul-suckers right in front of your cell?" Sirius asked infuriated. He immediately regretted it and was about to apologize when Hermione raised a hand.

"I get it. You don't have to apologize again. When you put it that way..." Hermione shook her head. "I guess I really am naive," she muttered to herself. Sirius heard it and watched the girl out of the corner of his eye.

Old boy, I think you're going soft, Sirius thought to himself before swallowing his pride (or at least attempting to) and began in a soft voice.

"I guess I was...am...so afraid of the Dementors because I was punished for something I didn't even do. Azkaban as a place isn't so bad; it's just like that old Muggle prison Albatross or something like that."

"Alcatraz?" Hermione volunteered.

"Yeah, Alcatraz. Azkaban is just like Alcatraz, except Azkaban has our cheery little friends," Sirius smiled. Hermione had to hold back from laughing out loud and chuckled a little instead. He stopped a moment and admired her youthful face with its light-hearted smile.

"Sirius?" she whispered.

"Yeah," he whispet;

Her question was met with an extremely awkward silence. Suddenly, Hermione noticed how Sirius was fidgeting under her curious gaze, and broke her eye contact quickly.

Instead of waiting for him to respond in the growing quiet, Hermione piped up with a question of different topic.

"Do you want to go touring the countryside tomorrow? We can take the day off, and explore a bit of the Muggle Greek history...I've heard it's quite fascinating."

Sirius let out a sigh of relief, for not having to answer the question and having something else to think about. "That would be smashing. Do you know some places where we could go? And I'm surprised you haven't read about it, Ms. Granger, beinilliant woman you are."

Hermione blushed, but answered. "I've a book, but I'll have to read it again. I didn't cover it thoroughly enough to know some good places." She gave him a tired smile, and tried to stifle a yawn from overpowering her, but failed miserably.

Sirius jolted back into reality and glanced at the clock. "My God, it's already two! You must be exhausted, having to avoid me all day. Get some sleep, I'll see you in the morning."

Hermione nodded, and began to climb the stairs sleepily. She threw her shoes into the wardrobe, closed the balcony windows, and fell into her bed, dead to the world.

***

Sirius poured himself a cup of tea once Hermione had gone up to sleep, and carried it up to his bedroom. He stretched out on his bed, and slowly sipped the soothing liquid, pondering the question asked of him but a mere half an hour ago.

Why are you still here? It was such a simple question, in context, but yet, so difficult to grasp and answer with what he wanted to say.

Remus would've known how to reply to a question like this. Use simple logic, and say the first thing that pops in your head that would sound satisfying...however, Sirius had so many thoughts jumbled up in his head that he didn't know what to think or to say.

First, why had he stayed? He could've easily left and gone somewhere else, but something was holding him back, pressuring him to stay. It was as though some sort of force he wasn't in control of was telling him that there was importance in him living with Hermione in her villa.

Then there was the question of what he was going to do when Hermione went back to school. There he was in a bit of a dilemma, and it was laying heavily on his mind, but he hadn't had time to mull it over. He could ask Hermione if he could stay in Greece, and rent out her house...but that wouldn't work. All his money was in Gringotts, and he had no access to it at present. And he knew that Hermione would refuse to take payment, and then he'd feel guilty for being a freeloader.

Sirius set his empty cup on the table beside his bed and lay his head back on his pillow. He could stay at the bar and work; however, he'd probably become lonely, though he was used to that, and didn't particularly want to be around Astrid alone. That girl was a sneaky one...could've been a Slytherin if she'd gone to Hogwarts.

Looking out the window up at the stars, Sirius closed his heavy eyes, wondering what he would do for his life as a fugitive in the future.

***