UNSAID THINGS
by
Hollister9
The blustering wind whipped against Oliver Wood's face like a piercing knife as he struggled to his front door and fumbled for his keys. He had just got back from Quidditch practise with Puddlemere United, where he was Goalkeeper as well as Captain; a title he had worked very hard for and was immensely proud of. He opened the door and beamed at the sight he was welcomed to. His breathtakingly beautiful witch was curled up on the sofa, her wavy curls wildly hanging down her back and a rather thick leather book tucked under her arm which she was completely absorbed in.
"Darling, I'm home!" he sang, kicking the door shut gracefully with his foot and throwing his bag on the floor.
She looked up him and smiled, "how was practise?"
He grinned wickedly and immediately started giving her an in-depth and overly enthusiastic analysis of the team's session, speaking for five minutes just about the game play.
Oliver's obsession with Quidditch was unhealthy.
Hermione's mind wandered off from Oliver's rambling to Harry in their third year, remembering when he used to bolt for the boys dormitories whenever the Quidditch captain entered the common room. It was rather scary how his eyes maniacally searched for Harry in order to give him another earful of tips for the next match.
"Okay Oliver!" she sighed playfully, holding up a hand to stop him. "I think I've heard enough."
His voice faded to silence and his face cracked into a smile. "How's little Al?"
Hermione closed her book and smiled sleepily.
"The little terror's sleeping," she yawned, accepting Oliver's hand to pull her up.
"I'd better check on him actually, the cheeky bugger has probably worked out a way to escape from his cot by now..."
She tip-toed into the dark bedroom, trying to make as little sound as possible, and peered into the cot.
She felt her heart warm as her chocolate eyes locked with his grey innocent ones. Her three year old son sat wide awake, his black curly hair messy and unkempt around his adorable face and his mischievous smile sliding across his lips as he saw his mummy. He immediately lost interest with the miniature broomstick he had clutched in his small fist and dropped it as he raised his arms to be lifted up.
She laughed softly, and placed a kiss on his forehead.
"Albert sweetheart you're meant to be sleeping!"
"Not sleepy mummy," he said sadly, and pulled his best puppy dog eyes look which he knew his mum - and pretty much everyone - always fell for.
Hermione struggled to keep a smile from spreading across her face.
His father had the puppy dog look worked perfectly too, he could simply turn it on when something didn't go his way because he knew that no one could resist his eyes that leaked innocence, or his lips that pouted and trembled so cutely your body squirmed.
"Do you want me to read you a story darling? I'll read your favourite," she said, stroking Albert's head lovingly.
His eyes lit up and he began to clap his tiny hands together excitedly positively yelling, 'the three little pigs!'
"Can you do the roar mummy? The wolf's roar," he pleaded, on the verge of pulling the puppy dog eyes again.
She laughed and nodded.
The little boy's nose crinkled in thought for a second and he looked up inquiringly.
"Could my daddy roar?" he asked.
Hermione blinked in surprise.
They had only talked about his father once or twice before. It wasn't something she liked discussing, but she knew that one day Albert would start asking questions about him... what he was like and the kind of man he was. So she wasn't totally unprepared for when the exact question came a few days later, after she'd finished reading his usual bed-time story.
"What's my daddy like mummy?"
Hermione pondered the thought for a minute... what was he like?
The front door snapped shut and seconds later were followed by hurried stomping footsteps up the stairs. Hermione was lying on the bed they shared, her soft brown curls falling across her face in her deep slumber. His eyes narrowed in concern when he saw her and rushed to her side. She felt a shower of gentle kisses brush her face and neck, and she immediately started to awaken.
"Mione," he whispered in her ear, his goatee tickling her skin and causing her to shiver. She felt his strong arms weave around her waist and pull her closer to him. "Mione, how are you feeling baby?"
She didn't say anything for a while. Her mind was currently too busy smelling his familiar gorgeous masculine scent. His breath drew hotter on her neck as he leant in and nibbled her ear playfully, her teeth making her eyes shut and thighs rub together. She had to marvel at times like this when she felt like utter shit, how one kiss from him could spiral her into intoxication and light-headed dizziness.
"Hmm?" she hummed inquistively, and allowed one eye to peek open.
He grinned wolfishly and cuddled her tighter. "Finally you're back from the bloody dead! God I've missed you darling. My sweet, sweet darling..." he left playful kisses on her cheeks, forehead, nose, ear and neck and she giggled at his intrusions.
"Get off me you mangy mutt," she muttered, a sly smirk creeping across her lips as he feigned a innocent heartbroken puppy. He actually went to get up, and she grinned and pulled on his arm. "Nooo I'm joking, come and hold me."
His eyes softened and he crawled back to her, his body lying to her side, partly atop of hers. "You need to stop being so adorable, woman," he murmured lowly, dragging his lips across up her neck and across her jaw, before he pressed his lips to hers. His shirt was riding up, and she could see the trail of dark hair that disappeared into his pants; the deliciousness made her squirm. Nibbles and pecks turned to deep, tongued kissing, so that when he rolled onto her once more, his erection was pressing into her abdomen.
He pulled back to look at her, slightly breathless, eyes dark and hungry. "Do you want to?"
He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and cupped her face, the intensity making her blush. "I'm... I'm still a bit queasy," she whispered back, stroking his stubbly jaw. "I'm sorry."
She felt awful, and he shook his head vigorously and nuzzled her neck. "You have nothing to be sorry for."
"But I got you excited," she mumbled sheepishly.
His rumbling laugh warmed her insides as it shook her. "You always get me excited, love." He sounded amused. "I'm like a horny schoolboy around you."
She pursed her lips and said nothing, and he chuckled again because he knew she was feeling embarrassed. "Alright, we'll miss out the sex and go straight to the cuddling," he flopped onto his back and lazily patted the bed sheets beside him, "come on then kitten, get in these arms."
She did, and he enfolded his arms around her with a sigh and a kiss to her forehead. "Love you," he whispered.
She snuggled further into his warmth and closed her eyes, sighing at the way he gently rubbed her back. "Love you," she whispered back.
She knew Sirius would be an amazing dad, but how was he going to take it when she told him she was pregnant? That's if she was of course, but her suspicions had never been wrong before. Surely he would have put two and two together with their sex and her morning sickness and realised?
Perhaps not. This was Sirius Black, and he was oblivious to many things.
But Sirius had never got round to finding out that Hermione was carrying his baby because she had left two days later without a word to anyone.
That was three years ago.
She hadn't seen her three best friends, Ron, Harry or Ginny, she hadn't seen any of the Weasley's or Remus or Tonks and most painfully, she hadn't seen him since.
Hermione swallowed nervously and picked Albert up from his cot.
"Your daddy was a very nice man. He..." she swallowed her drying throat as she tried to pick the right words to describe him. "He was as brave as a knight. Remember I told you about the houses you get sorted into a Hogwarts sweetie? Well, like me, your daddy was a Gryffindor. The first in his family. He played Quidditch on the house team. He could make me laugh when I was sad, and gave the biggest, most snugly cuddles. He was also very clever, and he read lots of books like me too, but not as much..."
She smiled as she reminisced.
"He was cheeky-" 'Like you' she wanted to say. "And he got into a lot of trouble sometimes..." this was a bit of a stretch really. According to old stories Remus had told her, it seemed as if it were all the time. "But he didn't mind, that never stopped your daddy."
Her eyes stung as tears threatened to fall but she ignored them.
"You are so like him sweetheart, and one day you'll see just how much."
Hot burning tears trickled down her cheeks but she refused to wipe them away. She would not feel guilty for what she did. It was the right thing to do. There wasn't a day that slipped by when she didn't think about what happened when she last heard his voice, and her stomach felt like it'd been kicked repeatedly each time she thought of it.
She stepped quietly through the front door of Grimmauld Place, closed it and dropped her forehead against the cold wood. It had been a long and tiring day, and now she had just found out something that had made it that bit harder. She couldn't believe it herself. Her suspicions were true... she was pregnant. She had visited St. Mungos and they ran some tests, did a few complicated spells, and the Healer confirmed it. Inside her were teeny cells that would grow and grow into a baby, that would be on planet Earth with her in less than nine months.
She started to make her way to the stairs, not bothering to remove her coat or scarf. She was so bloody moody that she wanted nothing more than to hibernate under her bed covers and not speak to anyone for weeks. How the hell was he going to react when she told him? She buried her face in her hands at the thought and almost with a soldier like determination, continued to troop up the stairs.
She heard his infamous bark of laughter from the kitchen and her foot froze in mid-step. He was speaking to someone. She cocked her eye towards the door to allow her to listen better, and another voice - of whom she recognised to be Charlie Weasley - started speaking.
"You lucky barstard! The things I'd do to Hermione Granger if she was wrapped around my finger like she is with you..." He wolf whistled to prove his point. "I mean for the love of merlin, who knew a book-worm could be so sexy?"
Sirius laughed again. "Yeah I know, but let's be honest here Charlie. I'm THE Sirius Black, the one and only. Every witch I woo falls for me eventually. She is my bitch."
She could tell he was smirking. The slow dread of sick churned in her stomach, and it wasn't from the pregnancy. Why was he talking about her like that, after all they'd said to each other, after all they'd done? Listening to him arrogantly bragging about his silly sex life and his selfish womanising ways was hurting her heart, and she couldn't bear to say a moment longer, yet her body wouldn't move – she was frozen. Stuck. Trapped.
"If you get some action tonight, film it for me yeah? Don't tell her you're doing it obviously, I doubt Hermione is that eager."
Sirius sighed heavily, and she could almost imagine him shaking his head, running a hand through his hair as he always did when he was annoyed. "I doubt I'm getting any tonight mate," he said gravely, as if the world had wronged him. "She's been doing my head in the last couple of days because she's been so ill and I haven't been able to get a good shag. I mean, come on! A man has needs!"
Charlie grunted in agreement.
"Well just switch on the Sirius Black charm and I'm sure she'll widen her legs," he said, "if not Madam Rosmerta asked me to tell you that she's still waiting for you to take up on that offer from a few months ago."
Hermione's breath hitched. All those sweet things he had said to her, all those times he had held her in his arms and told her she looked beautiful, all those bunches of roses he had given her when he came back from Diagon Alley, all those cups of cocoa and talks around the fire, and 'I love you's' had all been lies. Maybe, deep down, she knew it herself and saw the end coming, would see the real person he was, but hearing it out loud and put so bluntly hurt more than she ever could have prepared for. She felt as though the world was crumbling around her, the floor cracking beneath her as well and her heart... well.
She didn't really have one any more.
She turned and ran and didn't stop. She ran from the stairs, ran from the house, ran from it all and swore to herself that she would never love Sirius Black again.
AN: So that's the first chapter! Do bare in mind that this is my first fan fiction, and so my writing should only evolve and get better. And yep, Sirius is a git... but don't you worry. He will pay. Click on my profile to see the 'Unsaid Things' trailer or type it in on YouTube. Em Watson is my Hermione, and Gary Oldman is my Sirius, as well as a sex God! Oh, and if you hadn't guessed already, you Einstein's, I'm not J.K Rowling, so I own nothing in the Harry Potter world apart from this story and plot line. :)
