Disclaimer: Sadly, I don't own any of the Harry Potter characters. Everything belongs to JK Rowling, and I'm merely allowed to play around with them. No copyright infringement is intended.
Here goes, Sirius Black fans, the much awaited (by me at least) SB/HG! Enjoy! Read and review!
The Cliff
Sirius Black. Sirius fucking Black. That's who he was, yet he felt like a puddle of water in front of her. It was all he could do not to go over to her and talk to her, maybe more…
He groaned. Stupid, stupid old man. No one would want you, you ex-convict! Especially not her! She's like, what, 20 years younger, has twice your I.Q. and is thrice as gorgeous as Miss France.
He was standing there, at the ministry, awaiting his official pardon papers, when she walked past him. She was wearing a long black skirt that fluttered around her legs. He hadn't noticed how long they were until that day. Her robes were open to reveal a simple white shirt, but hell, she could make the simplest things shine with beauty.
For a second he had thought that coming back to life had altered some of his perception cells and he was having hallucinations. He was considering believing in angels when she gasped and dropped her folders to clasp her hands over her mouth in surprise, staring at him.
Shooting her and very cheeky grin, he walked to the minister's office. He knocked and, not waiting for an answer, strolled in as if he owned the place. Fortunately, Kingsley was alone, and he too, gasped in surprise. "What?" Sirius smiled. "Not happy to see me?"
Kingsley didn't answer. "Sirius?" he asked. "Is that really you?"
Sirius rolled his eyes. "No, it's bleeding Santa Claus!" he replied sarcastically. "Of course it's me!"
"But… but how?" he asked, still looking awed.
"How the hell am I supposed to know?" Sirius asked. Kingsley stared. "I just appeared in my room, this morning, and when I got out, imagine my surprise when I saw Harry, all grown up! He asked how I had ended up there, since I was dead. Of course, I replied I was very much alive… He told me everything after, of course, after he woke up from his fainting. Apparently Bella killed me and I ended up stuck in a veil. My real surprise, of course, was when he told me Pettygrew had been caught and I had been pardoned. So, I just decided to pop in to fetch all the paperwork." he explained.
"Well…" Kingsley said. "He hasn't lied to you. Did you leave in a hurry?"
Sirius snorted. "Obviously. I was whooping with joy and jumping all over the place and left. He probably tried to tell me something, but I wasn't listening."
Kingsley sighed. "You should have." he told him. "He was probably trying to tell you he had the papers. I gave them to him years ago, Sirius."
"Years?" Sirius gasped, surprised. "How long was I gone, anyway?"
"Erm…" Kingsley started shuffling around his papers, until he got a little agenda out. "Just over seven years, apparently." he put the little book back in its drawer and asked: "Tell me, Sirius, do you remember how you came back?"
He shook his head. "Like I told Harry, the last thing I remember was a flashback… About me and James, fighting together… Before that, I was at home, when Kreacher told me how he'd trapped Harry… Oh, Gods, I was such an idiot!"
Kingsley nodded. "Yes, you were. And you paid for it. You died. You came back, but in the meantime, you missed quite a lot of things."
Sirius gave a weak smile. "I know. Harry defeated Voldemort, graduated, became an Auror, got married… He and Ginny are even talking kids!" He swivelled in his chair as he remembered when Harry had told him that.
Kingsley cringed. "I didn't need to know that." he groaned, before clearing his throat. "Well, now that you are a free man, I suggest you get yourself everything a free man needs: a house, a job, some money… And a family."
"A family?" Sirius asked, before bursting out laughing. "A family? Me?! You have got to be kidding me. I am the biggest playboy the world has ever seen! I'm not built for family life!"
Kingsley shrugged. "I was just saying it'd be nice to see you settle down with someone. Not only or me, but for Harry, too. You know he yearns to see the world a better place… You could also set an example to his friends: neither Hermione nor Ron is married-"
"Wait, wait, wait…" he interrupted. "They're not married? To each other, I mean."
Kingsley sighed. "No. You see, it appears we were all wrong and they were just close friends."
Sirius leaned back in his chair. "Wow. That's a lot to take in." he admitted.
Kingsley straightened up. "Well, while you're getting over your emotions, I'd like you to consider rejoining our ranks as a Senior Auror... Nobody ever truly filled your seat."
Sirius grinned. "Consider the job filled." he answered.
-o-O-o-
'Home, sweet home.' Sirius thought as he stepped inside his favourite Muggle bar.
"Sirius!" the barman, Roger, called out. "Fancy seeing you here! It's been too long..."
"Yeah," Sirius agreed, sitting down just in front of him. "Twenty two years."
"Goodness me!" Roger exclaimed. "That makes you an old man! Funny, you don't look a day older."
Sirius laughed. "Always the flatterer, eh, Roger!"
He shrugged, getting out a glass. "What can I say, it works better on the ladies." He poured a large amount of amber liquid in the glass and handed it to Sirius. "Here, it's on the house."
Sirius took the glass. "Cheers." he thanked Roger, before tipping it back and swallowing a mouthful. The familiar burn of whiskey reassured him as the smell reached his nostrils.
"So," Roger said, drying a plate with a clean cloth. "What have you been to during these twenty two years?"
Sirius took another gulp. "I went to jail, bailed myself out for free, hid for a couple of years, died and came back to life seven years later."
Roger stared at him for a couple of minutes before he asked: "You didn't take anything before coming here, did you?" Upon seeing Sirius shake his head, he sighed and went back to drying his plate. "So you haven't changed anything, have you?"
He shook his head. "Nope. I'm still a bachelor sex god... Even though I'm forty three."
"You're hopeless Sirius!" Roger laughed. "Can't you just find one girl and settle down?"
"I doubt that." the younger man said. "Who would want a mangy old mutt like myself in their life?"
"I could think of a few people..." Roger said vaguely, taking a glass and wiping it too. "See that girl behind you, for instance, she's been coming here every night for the past four years. Rumour has it she suffers post-war syndrome, but I wouldn't know what war she's been in."
Sirius turned around to the girl Roger was talking about and gasped. "Hermione?" he asked.
"You know her?" Roger asked, clearly surprised.
"Sure I know her, she's my godson's best friend!" Sirius explained. "What does she think she's doing here?" And, without waiting for an answer, he stood up and strolled over to her table. He pulled the chair in front of her and sat down.
She didn't even bat an eyelid as she said: "Hello Sirius, fancy seeing you here."
He felt a surge of pity for her. She was nursing a glass of what looked, and smelled, like Cypriot Ouzo, her head swaying in drunkenness. "What are you doing?" he asked softly. She looked so different then when he had last seen her... That morning.
She looked up at him, a half smile on your face. "Why do you care?" she asked. "Everyone likes you, you don't have to take care of me."
He stared at her, puzzled. "I don't really get where you're going." he told her sincerely.
She snorted. "Of course you don't." she told him, taking a large gulp of her ouzo. They stayed like that for a long time before she said: "I'm out of here." She stood up abruptly and without any wavering, an exploit considering the large amount of alcohol she had taken.
"Hermione, wait!" he called out, but it was too late. She was already leaving the bar at great speed. He threw a couple of pounds on the table and ran off after her. He left the bar and ran in the direction she was heading, already out of breath.
She turned around a corner to a dark alley and he followed, silently cursing cigarettes for having ruined his health. She stopped and pulled out her wand, about to Disapparate, but at the last moment, he grabbed her wrist and felt himself being squashed in a too narrow rubber tube and transported to some mystery location.
When his feet hit the ground, he was disorientated. Crashing sounds came from all directions and he couldn't feel Hermione's warmth near him anymore. After a while, his eyes got used to the darkness around him, and he saw her. She had her head thrown back, her eyes closed and her feet dangling off a cliff.
He looked down and saw caves crashing on its rocky edges as the foam kissed it and tiny droplets flew, way, way, way below the both of them. He silently thanked the Lord for not having made him afraid of heights and approached Hermione silently.
He sat down next to her, his feet not touching anything anymore either, and asked: "Where are we?"
She slowly opened her eyes and turned to him, not looking the very least drunk. "I thought it was obvious." she said softly. "We're sitting on the edge of a cliff."
He snorted. "I got that part, alright." he answered. "But which cliff?"
She shook her head. "I don't know. It's my cliff. It's the very same cliff that I almost jumped off when Ron broke up with me."
His head jerked up. "You almost jumped off it? Why? I thought you guys didn't love each other."
She looked down. It was very dark, but he was almost sure he could see a tear glistening in her eyes. "That's not it." she whispered, her voice almost drowned by the sound of the waves continuously trying to destroy the wall that separated sea and land. "He didn't love me," she continued. "But I loved him. I loved him with all my heart. It almost killed me when he told me it was all over. He was really sweet about it, he left me everything, but inside… I died."
"Were you mad at him?" Sirius asked her.
"No." she answered. "He hadn't done anything wrong. In the heat of the moment, I just thought of a cliff, any cliff, and ended up here. I was standing on the edge, ready to jump and die, but I couldn't. Instead, I just sat down and cried." She turned to him. "It's very empty here. No one other from me ever comes. I though I might be going crazy, that this place was nothing more than just a figment of my imagination, yet here you are."
He smiled slightly before turning serious again. "Why do you drink, then?"
She sighed. "The cliff makes me forget only while I'm there. The alcohol numbs the pain every time I have to be somewhere else. Sometimes… Sometimes I dream of being able to have a new life… But now, even Harry seems to have lost faith in me. He invites me to his parties and all that stuff, but I can see he doesn't see me as Hermione anymore, but more like a broken china doll."
Sirius left it there for a few minutes before he added: "You would only be broken if you'd jumped." She didn't answer, nor did he expect her to. They stayed like that for an indefinite period of time before he noticed her shiver. "We should get you home." he declared, standing up.
He felt rather stiff and had to walk around for a few minutes before he could feel his limbs properly again, but apart from that, he felt fine. Hermione hadn't moved. He approached her, intending on repeating his previous sentence to her until he noticed she was asleep. She looked so peaceful there; he didn't want to move her. That is, until another shiver came, when he made up his mind and hooked an arm under her head and another under her knees.
He pulled her wand out of her hand and Disapparated them to his flat, directly in his room. He set her in his bed and prepared himself to leave her alone when he felt something holding onto his sleeve. He turned around and looked at Hermione, still asleep. Softly, she whispered one word. "Stay."
And he did.
-o-O-o-
The next day, when he woke up next to her, he felt strange. I felt like having a ping pong ball stuck in his throat, but it was a pleasant feeling. Her hair was splayed across the bed, just as wild as it used to be, although curly and no longer frizzy.
He had pulled the cover over them as they slept, but she still had come to him for extra warmth and clung on to his shirt, apparently all night. He tried to stand up, but she held on, clutching the piece of soft fabric between her thin fingers. In the end, he took it off and slipped out of bed, intending on making himself breakfast.
As he sipped his coffee quietly, he thought about his flat. He had bought it with James and Remus at the end of their sixth year, with his uncle Alphard's money. For some strange reason, he'd never sold it, even when James and Lily died or when he got out of Azkaban. He hadn't mentioned it in his will, either, thinking that if Harry ever found out about it, he could do whatever he wanted.
Heaving a sigh, he brought his cup, a second and the pot of coffee back to his room. He wasn't surprised to see Hermione wide awake, hugging her knees and staring at the opposite wall.
"Feeling better?" he asked, handing her a cup, which she took, and pouring the scalding coffee inside it.
She nodded and blew a little n her coffee before taking a sip. "Much better, thank you."
He waited until she had finished her cup and looked wide awake before telling her: "If there's anything I can do for you, just call me."
He turned back and prepared himself to leave but she called out: "Sirius?"
He turned around, a questioning look in his eye. "Yes?"
She nibbled her lower lip and set her cup back on the bedside table. "I think…" she started. "I think there is something you could do for me."
Somehow, he knew what it was. He looked at the beautiful girl on the bed and walked back towards her, sitting down so that her curled up legs touched his hips. He reached out and pulled her on his lap, wrapping his strong arms loosely around her soft, thin waist. She put her hands on his chest and looked up to him, before she whispered:
"Please."
He bent down low, so that their lips were barely a centimetre apart, and whispered back: "Anything."
They closed all distances.
-o-O-o-
The next day, they both went to Hermione's flat to retrieve her stuff and move it back to Sirius'. She didn't want to sell it yet, so they just left it there, cold and empty, and spent their time together in other places.
On Monday, they both went back to work. Their relationship remained hidden from the population, that was, of course, until the Ministry Victory Ball. They had arrived together and spent the night having their fun, and at the very end, kissed right there, in front of the whole of the Ministerial staff.
They had made the headlines he next day, and had received numerous congratulations letters. The one that touched them the most was Harry's. He seemed truly happy Hermione had found someone and that Sirius had settled down. He concluded his letter by: 'I hope you won't forget I wrote the best letter when you chose your best man and your kids' godfather! Love, Harry. PS: Ginny's pregnant, and it's a boy!'
Both of them had laughed and spent a nice day together. Sirius really liked Hermione. Sometimes, he even wondered if he loved her. He practically worshipped her, treated her like a queen, took her where ever she wanted to be and cherished her beyond her wildest dreams.
It was on their one-year anniversary, when the novelty of it all had worn out for the press, that he realised he truly did love her. He had set a very special date for the both of them.
"Where are you taking me?" Hermione whined, a piece of cloth covering up her eyes as Sirius took her hand to Apparate them away.
He smiled. "You'll see when we get there." And with no further talking, he spun them around and they left their apartment.
He removed the cloth as soon as both their pairs of feet hit the ground. She looked around, her vision slightly blurred by the light, until she could finally made out the details. Then her jaw dropped. "We're on my cliff." she said, unable to formulate any other coherent sentence.
He shook his head. "No. We're on our cliff."
She turned around to face him, tears of joy glistening in her eyes. "I love you." she whispered, a slow smile forming on her face.
He smiled too. "I love you too."
-o-O-o-
Hermione and Sirius lived a blissful life for the next couple of months. They rarely bickered, and when they did, it was about stupid things like who would get to carry James and who would get to carry Albus, once he was born. That was until they ran out of money.
Harry wondered how t had happened, but the couple never told him. Apparently, they didn't know much about it either, so they accused each other. Sirius would say it was Hermione's fondness of clothes, and she would say it was his trips to Disney with her and all their journeys.
Whichever it was, they had to find a solution, and fast. They both had jobs, but being a secretary wasn't that well paid, and Aurors, even senior ones, were paid in a system of extras. Basically, if you didn't catch anybody, you weren't paid. The Wizarding world was living a period a piece and justice, and therefore criminals were hard to find.
Therefore, their only option was to sell the second flat. Hermione argued. "No!" she said. "We are not selling my flat for your obscenities!"
"Obscenities?" he asked. "You rather seemed to like my obscenities when we visited Paris for your birthday!"
"Whether I liked it or not is irrelevant, Sirius!" she yelled back. "You spent the money, you find a way to replace it!"
"What I don't get," he said, pinching his nose between his thumb and forefinger. "Is why you won't agree to it. You don't even like that flat! You haven't set foot in it in over a year and a half!"
"So?" she asked. "I still don't want to sell it!"
"But you hate it!" he argued. "It brings back bad memories! Memories of times when I wasn't there to help you!"
"Don't flatter yourself." she said. "I was doing perfectly fine before you came along too."
He snorted. "When I first saw you, you were a suicidal drunkard with issues about jumping off a cliff. That doesn't seem that fine to me."
She froze. "Fine." she declared. She stormed past him towards the door.
"Where are you going?" he asked, suddenly scared.
She left her hand on the door handle, not even bothering to turn back as she answered: "The suicidal drunkard with issues is now leaving the bossy, selfish man that was her boyfriend."
As she opened the door and left, he yelled after her: "Fine, leave! See if I care."
But as she slammed the door behind her, he felt immensely guilty. Why the hell had he talked to her like that? She was right, he should've been more careful about spending the money… And he shouldn't have talked to her like that. It was downright disrespectful, and it was her flat, after all. He had no right in wanting to force her to do something she didn't want to do.
Overwhelmed by a wave of remorse, he opened the door, only to find that she had left. Disapparated, probably. He ran his hands through his hair, pulling hard at it and groaning in frustration, unable to think straight.
She had gone and he had no clue so as to where she had left. She could've gone to her flat, although she doubted that. She could have gone to Harry's, Ron's, Luna's… The list was endless. But the more he thought about it, the more he realised there was only one place where she could be.
A determined look on his face, he stood up, pulled out his wand and spun around, leaving his flat. As his feet hit the ground, he was greeted with a familiar crashing sound.
He saw her then. She was standing on the edge of their cliff, her arms tightening around herself to press her thin cotton vest closer to her body. She stared out to the edge of the sea, her hair whipping out behind her.
He approached her soundlessly. When he was a couple of meters away, she said: "We can't do this anymore."
He walked closer to her, so that his warmth was radiating towards her. "Why not?" he whispered. The wind blew slightly, tangling his hair in hers.
She shivered. "Because we fought, Sirius… And I would know, things will only go downhill from there."
The wind blew harder. She leaned into his chest for comfort, shivering. He bent down, setting his hands gently down on her shoulders, and placed his lips at her ear. "You've got to realise, Hermione," he said after a while. "We can't go downhill, if we're on a cliff."
And as the waves crashed on the rough rocky edges of the limit of the land, as the clouds touched the last rays of light, kissing them goodbye, the pair watched the sun set in the horizon, waiting.
-o-O-o-
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