Home Is Where the Heart Is

CHAPTER 3

The next morning when Sirius woke up, he smiled and stretched. Then he felt something shift beneath his right arm. He looked down and saw Hermione's young, innocent face, even more beautiful in sleep. Looking down at her, Sirius couldn't help but admire her beauty: her pale, glowing skin, her rich hair fanned out on her pillow, the touch of healthy pink in her soft cheeks, her soft, full lips. Without really meaning to, Sirius reached out and traced Hermione's lips with his finger; she was just so beautiful that he couldn't resist her. After letting his gaze linger upon her for a few more moments, he got out of bed to take a shower.

Under the warm water, Sirius thought about how he felt about Hermione, and he realised that he had never felt the same about any other woman. This thought scared him. He ducked his head under the shower and then withdrew with a gasp, but he still thought the same. Sirius gave up trying to convince himself that he wasn't really attracted to Hermione. Bathing under the pleasantly warm water, Sirius said the words "attracted to" over and over in his mind, but they still didn't fit what he now felt towards her.

"That's because you love her," said a little voice in his head. Sirius slipped, and wildly waving his arms to regain his balance, he grabbed hold of the shower, saving himself. "Oh no, I can't love her, I can't," he said to himself softly. "This isn't right," Sirius groaned. How ironic it was that not a few weeks ago, he was moaning about not being able to fall in love, and now he was possibly falling in love with the wrong person.

He considered that she had slipped him a love potion, but he immediately dismissed that thought; he knew that Hermione would never do anything so underhanded. He was desperately trying to convince himself that that this wasn't love, but a nasty feeling in his gut told him it was. In a moment of rash thought, Sirius decided that it wasn't right for him to love her. It was completely inappropriate for them to have a relationship, not just because of the age difference, but also because of his position as her caretaker, which he couldn't abuse.

He also couldn't love her because of what it could do to her. He didn't want her to wake up one morning and realise she was with an old man and feel bound to him; he didn't want her sacrificing her youth for him. He couldn't do that to her. It was a simple matter, he told himself, between the rule of the heart and the head; his heart had been in charge last night, but from now on, his head must rule.

He stepped out of the shower, tied a towel around his waist, and, completely forgetting Hermione's presence, strolled back into the room. As soon as he entered, he remembered again that he wasn't in his room. He looked around and saw Hermione eyeing him closely. He felt his heart leap into his mouth, but he pushed it back down, forcing himself to think practically.

Before he could say anything, Hermione spoke in a husky voice. "Don't mind me, I'm just admiring the view," she said, pointedly staring at his muscular chest. She slid her eyes over the rest of his muscled frame and smiled appreciatively. It was such a sexy smile; Sirius struggled not to grin back at her. He briefly ran his eyes over her and realised that the only thing covering her was a thin nightgown, which was essentially transparent. As he looked at her, he could see her erect nipples showing through the sheet; he quickly turned away as he felt himself harden.

"Look, Hermione, we need to talk, okay? Just get dressed, and we'll go downstairs and talk about it over breakfast." Her face fell, and he felt his heart ache for her; he knew how she must be feeling.

"Alright," she said slowly. "Although I have to say, I don't really understand."

"We will talk about it over breakfast, I promise," repeated Sirius, and with that, he swept out of the room briskly. He changed quickly and rubbed his hair briefly with a towel before going downstairs. He wasn't surprised to see that Hermione was already down there, getting breakfast ready for both of them. Even after all that had happened, she still had remembered that it was her day to cook. That is just typical of Hermione, Sirius thought, and he grinned ruefully to himself.

She set breakfast out in silence; her heart was pounding in her chest. What did Sirius want to talk about? Hermione wondered. Surely it's obvious how I feel about him. She felt her cheeks reddening and turned away from him quickly. She went to get glasses for both of them and returned when her cheeks had paled. She sat down at the table and began to pour juice into her glass.

Sirius coughed nervously and said, "We need to talk, Hermione."

"So you said," she responded coolly, even though she felt her heart might burst.

Sirius sighed deeply. "I don't know how to tell you this," he said, "but I've been a real inconsiderate bastard. I let my feelings run away with me, and now I'm going to have to hurt you. For that, I'm truly sorry. I honestly don't know how to describe how I feel about you; nothing I could say could sum it up. Now I don't know how you feel about me, but it doesn't matter, because we're going to have to end this now."

"You're right," Hermione said quietly.

"I see last night was nothing to you - just flirting, just some practice. But that's fine, honestly, it's just fine. I mean, that's what we have to do anyway, so that's easier for you, which is good," said Sirius quickly.

"Sirius, stop rambling," Hermione said sharply. "I didn't mean that. I meant that you are right: you are a complete fucking bastard!" She shouted the last bit and ran off upstairs, leaving Sirius behind at the table, clutching his head in his hands.

Just then an owl landed on the table next to Sirius; he glanced up and saw that it was holding a letter from Harry. Spirits temporarily rising, Sirius grabbed for the letters with glee, startling the owl, which flew off out of reach. Sirius spent a few minutes tempting her to come back down before finally retrieving the letter attached to its leg. He gave the owl some water in a saucer and turned his attention to the letter. Opening the envelope, he read it once through, and then he reread it. In the letter, Harry said to expect him tomorrow. He would Apparate to the village, where Sirius could meet him.

Although he longed to see his godson again, Sirius couldn't help but groan at Harry's bad timing. No doubt Hermione would be in a foul mood, and things could be made even worse, as he suspected Hermione had a crush on Harry. She was bound to tell Harry what had happened, and if she did, Sirius knew that Harry would hate him and probably never forgive him for kissing his best friend. Sirius resorted to his previous position, his head in his hands, and then groaned loudly. He stood up, and taking the letter with him, started to walk slowly upstairs. He knocked on Hermione's bedroom door, but there was no answer, although he thought he heard a quiet sob. Sirius sighed with regret.

"Hermione? I know you're in there. It's alright; you don't have to answer me. I know how you must be feeling, and I'm truly sorry. I only hope that one day you can find it in yourself to forgive me." He paused. "I just wanted to let you know that Harry's coming tomorrow. I'm going to meet him in the village at eleven o'clock."

He slid the letter under the door and quietly walked back downstairs. He cleared up their breakfast, as he no longer had an appetite, and then put on a coat before going out into the garden. He sat down on the bench and moaned softly to himself; he felt terrible. He put his hands back up to his face, and was surprised when they came away damp. He sat on the bench for hours, and then went out for a walk, after leaving a note for Hermione.

When he came back, the sun was setting in the sky, and it was even colder than before. Hermione had still not come downstairs, so he made dinner in silence. He took some food for her up on a plate and knocked lightly before setting the plate down outside her door. He went back to the kitchen and ate on his own for the first time in what felt like years, even though in reality, it had only been a month.

He regretted breaking up with her. He had thought it was the right thing to do at the time, but now he wasn't so sure. He thought he might have hurt her more by doing this. Sirius tried to convince himself that it was the right thing to do, that it was only his heart and his love for her saying that he shouldn't have done it, that he shouldn't have denied the both of them. When he looked inside himself, he realised that even his head was saying it was the wrong thing to do. He groaned. He had lost the woman he loved in an act of rashness, and he couldn't do anything about it now.

That night he slept alone for the first time in weeks, and he heard Hermione's screams down the hall. He knew that later, when his body finally shut down, his screams would be mingled with hers.