Chapter 1
Christmas 2004
Down an old street, hidden between number eleven and number thirteen Grimmauld Place was number twelve Grimmauld Place. The naked eye could not see it. Come to think of it, no eye could see it, not even Mad Eye's. It was unknown to the neighbors, who still believed the housing management misnumbered the buildings, that a perfect holiday was brewing beyond the brownstone.
The winds were picking up threatening speeds, causing nearby shutters to bang helplessly against their structures. Snow flurries blinded the air as it rained very thin sheets upon the already white sidewalks. Trees were blanketed with white fluffy clouds as their branches froze brittle and stiff. Railings felt like wet ice cubes against gloved hands using them as a guide to even the more familiar of paths.
In nine years, number twelve Grimmauld Place was having the largest number of houseguests this Christmas since the second generation was still at Hogwarts. At the current time, they were only waiting on two extra guests.
The large sitting room of the Potters' house was warm and decorated with a well stocked liquor cabinet for just such of occasions. The enchanted piano played quietly against good conversation that filled the room; the sound adding charm to the environment. Most of the Weasleys, including the extended parts, were in attendance, along with Remus and his wife Tonks with their young son, Teddy, Harry and Ginny and their children, it being their house, and for the second holiday since his return, Sirius.
"Dinner will be very soon, boys," Ginny said, breezing through the sitting room wearing a red apron and looking a wee bit frazzled.
She had spent a good part of the day in the kitchen with her mother and after several near-missed hexing between the two ladies of the same make up, the delicious aroma started to waft in with her, turning a few wizards' heads along the way.
"That is, if I don't kill her first," the redhead said turning on her heel and holding up the wooden spoon as if it were a weapon.
"Now sis, don't talk about mum like that on days of all days," George mocked with a friendly light sarcastic voice. Her silence and eyes of daggers were enough for him to quickly bite his tongue, at least until she left the room, again.
Sirius rested an elbow on the mantle above the fireplace as he watched the youngest ginger disappear back into the kitchen. Harry stood nearby, a smile over his lips. Sirius slowly sipped his Brandy and leaned in bit closer to Harry, "What are we waiting on, anyway?"
Harry smiled and turned to his Godfather, his eyes were alight, "Hermione is coming. Got the owl yesterday that she and Viktor are going to be in England this holiday."
"Viktor?" Sirius asked as he furrowed his face.
"Her husband," Ron said, standing nearby. "They dated in school. He was one of the champions against Harry during the Tri-Wizard Tournament."
"Quidditch bloke?"
"Yes," both men said in unison.
"That's right, I remember. Sorry, I try not to read too much of the Prophet if I can help it. I get filled in other ways," Sirius explained with another sip of his Brandy and slight smirk to the side of his mouth in thought of his "source". It had slipped his mind that Hermione was now the hoity wife of worldwide Quidditch star of the Bulgarian Team.
"Don't blame ya, mate," Ron gave a nod on the notion. "They're still full of dung with the bullocks they put in there. Rubbish, really."
"They're still dragging me through the mud, aren't they?" Sirius asked smoothly as he cherished the way the amber liquid burned his throat.
"Yeah, pretty much," said Ron with a chuckle.
The light piano music was briefly interrupted by the chime of the front door bell, alerting the household of the new arriving guests. Harry excused himself to answer his door, Ron following and leaving Sirius behind to watch as an outsider.
Harry's voice carried through the room, "Hermione!" He could be seen throwing his arms around his best friend, who was also greeting him with the same amount of excitement. First to Harry, then to Ron. She was pulled inside, getting her out of the fierce wind and stepping her into the foyer where she was helped out of her coat. "Viktor, good to see you, mate," Harry continued. "It's been a long time."
Hermione hugged her two best friends like she hadn't seen them in several years, though it had only been two. Her voice could be heard praising the young men like an older sister, proud of what she'd read on them or heard about them that wasn't covered in a letter delivered by owl.
Hermione Granger, now Krum, was fuller now than she had been as a growing teenager. Her body was lean and fit, her skin pretty and fresh, her brown locks had been tamed into romantic curls with highlights of blonde and her nails were perfectly manicured with white tips. She wore two diamond rings, one on each hand and a matching diamond pendant around her neck. Almost a different person, the softer less materialistic Hermione still could be seen beneath the surface in the sincere smile on her lips and the bright twinkle in her brown eyes. Still, she matched her ruggedly handsome husband with his square jaw line and perfectly cut hair. He had a few scratches and bruises along his face and neck, obviously from the game he played professionally.
With a light squeeze of Viktor's hand, Hermione looked at him and nodded, as if mentally excusing herself to greet her extended family. He nodded in return and walked with Harry to prepare a drink for himself.
"Oh, Remus! So good to see you," she said with a big loving hug. She rounded to Tonks next and then bent over to address the small young man that stood at her side. "Teddy, you are getting so big. I know you probably hate hearing that, but it's really true."
"Hello, Aunt Hermione," Teddy said in a small voice. As he smiled, his hair turned light blue, where his mother quickly went to fluff it up, pleased with the new coloring.
Hermione went around the room giving tight hugs and kisses on cheeks, saying her greetings, her holiday wishes and accepting compliments. When she got to the end of the room, tucked against the fireplace was a familiar face that she knew in the back of her mind would be the icing on the cake. The color of his fitted sweater blended in to the charcoal colored walls that he was nearly overlooked when her eyes scanned the remainder of the room.
Sirius sipped his Brandy slowly, listening to the sound of the familiar female's voice. His eyes glanced towards the door, but there were too many people standing in front of him to get a look at the new arrivals. He watched Harry leading a young man, late twenties, to the bar where they clinked beer bottles and could only be talking about Quidditch by the excitement on Harry's face as it lit up for a conversation.
With the sound of Hermione's voice getting closer, he was able to just catch the back of her hugging Arthur Weasley. Her form was lean and attractive to look at. He blinked a few times having caught himself lingering over the way her jeans hugged her rear in the most handsome manner and believed it to be inappropriate considering she was A) his godson's best friend and B) married.
Then she turned to see him. Her eyes locked on his and Sirius was taken aback completely, amazed to see the full picture of the beautiful woman that had hatched from the gawky young fifteen year old that he remembered so long ago. Her curls bounced around her shoulders as she walked towards him, her cheeks flushing a gentle bronze-pink from the cold outside and as her arms opened before him offering a hug, Sirius could only hold his breath.
"Sirius, welcome home," she whispered once she was close enough and she embraced him warmly.
He recovered quickly, having just briefly been caught off guard, and welcomed her in. As the seconds passed, he recalled their first meeting in the shrieking shack and how even then, she showed his Harry the utmost devotion and trust and for that, he would always welcome her friendship and kindness. He was happy to see her and he was proud of her.
They embraced for four to five seconds, squeezing tightly and truly cherishing that important moment they shared. When they pulled away, they just looked at one another for a few extra seconds, unsure of what to say next for Hermione had a little explaining to do.
"I'm sorry I couldn't make it right after you got back, Sirius. Really, I am," she started, their conversation close and just between the two of them. "Time just went by so quickly and the next thing I knew, it was Christmas and our turn to come to England."
"It's fine. Everyone has their own lives," he charmed taking in her pretty face. She was so much a woman now; it was nearly hard for him to believe. Not to mention believe that he was strangely attracted to this woman, even with her husband a mere ten feet from him.
She shook her head, unhappy with his reasoning, "No, no, you came back from an amazing trip, Sirius. I'm just sorry I couldn't get here sooner. Everything got so busy and with Viktor going on the tour again, it was just-"
"Hermione, its fine. Don't worry about it."
Hermione shook her head, trying to disguise the guilt into stronger sincerity for not being back in London at the time of Sirius's return. He had come back from the Veil after several experiments at the Department of Mysterious and was merely a rescued miracle. His name had been cleared; he had been given back his fortune and pardoned by the Ministry, as well as granted several million galleons for the false imprisonment.
"Well, you look wonderful," she managed to muster with a genuine tilt of her head.
"Eight years in oblivion will do that to a person," he chuckled lightly.
"You'll have to tell me about it, then."
"Someday, maybe I will. I'm a little over talking about it and really just interested in getting on with life."
"Yes," she nodded, a little embarrassed to be bringing up such a touchy subject. "My apologies, Sirius."
"No need. So, forgive me for interrupting, but we've all been eagerly awaiting your arrival and now that you're here," Sirius turned on his heel and made a beeline for the kitchen, "Ginny, she's here, get the bird out of the oven!"
The room that had been full of jolly conversation and enchanted pianos was nearly emptied except for Hermione and a straggler or two. Viktor and Harry had gone on behind the larger group, talking the entire way vividly about flips and dives, but it was Hermione that stayed behind for a few extra minutes to herself.
Hermione stood in the center of the room, taking it all in. It felt like a lifetime ago that she was in that house, feeling the sanctuary that it provided. Even the old tapestries that weren't evil, but remained part of the Black legacy, still hung on the walls bringing comfort to her at her weakest time. The old clock ticked the way it used to, counting the seconds of life slipping away. She could hear the voices running on top of one another from the large kitchen at the other end of the house. She closed her eyes tightly, feeling the moisture in her tear ducts beginning to fill and wet. She heard the sound of Viktor's voice in her head about his unkind words on their journey over to Grimmauld Place, making comments about how she wasn't paying that much attention to her appearance. It pained her deep down to think that what she was or how she looked wasn't good enough, for she only did these things - the hair, the nails, the clothing - to appease him. But, for now, she couldn't think of that, for when they got back home, all would be normal and routine. Of course, she'd be far from this place, far from her friends, her extended family, her comfort zone, but it is the way life sorts it out for you.
"Hermione?" said a voice rejoining her in the sitting room.
Hermione was slick to quickly wipe her eyes with a clever fake itch to her nose with the sleeve of her shirt to see Ron coming back in to check on her. "Hey. I'm coming. Just taking a moment."
Ron nodded and agreed, "Yeah, it's good to be back here sometimes. Lots of memories."
"A lot," she smiled innocently. She valued her friendship with him after their failed romance, proving that above all else they would still be friends like they promised.
"I couldn't help but notice that Viktor didn't get you a drink. So, can I?"
Hermione smiled brightly, "That would be great. Egg nog?"
"It's not weak, I'm warning you now."
"That's the way I like it," she murmured and followed Ron into the kitchen for a drink and a family meal.
0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0
The old oak kitchen table that still stood firm and strong was elongated to accommodate all the dinner guests. More guests than usual, the family sounds of overlapping conversations bounced off the walls of the cave-like room with dishes washing, ovens cooling, fires stoking and silver distributed. Hearty portions were shared, including the perfectly carved turkey that Harry had taken care of as head of house.
The chime of a fork against a glass filled everyone's' ears, quieting the carrying voices of the room. Ginny Potter stood up and raised her glass for all to follow her lead. "I'd just like to say, and I speak on behalf of Harry and me, that it's nice for everyone to have been able to make it tonight. It's been a long time since we've all gathered on good circumstances for awhile and please know that everyone here is always welcome. Our families have grown over the years, but the core of it still stays the same. To all and be well, may your journeys be safe ones!"
"Cheers!" everyone repeated in unison. Clinking of glasses were the new echoing sounds, before voices once again carried over them and conversations were continued.
Hermione sat down by the end next to Ginny and right next to Viktor, who was currently still getting his ear talked off by Harry. She listened in and out, trying to pick up on others' conversations should something interest her strongly enough to chime in, but she was content to just listen to the company. She looked down at her half eaten plate, pushing around the left over carrots into a bit of potato, wondering when the next time she could return to the warm feeling like the one she felt when surrounded by her old friends. She sighed heavily, blinking a few times and then lifting her head to address Ginny about her latest studies.
From the opposite end of the table, practically on the other side of the kitchen, Sirius couldn't help but notice Hermione's lack of conversation. He noticed the way she didn't jump in as much as she used to when she was a teenager. Granted, that was nearly ten years ago that he remembered and he was aware people changed, but it was the way she appeared to be just so resigned to that nature, now. Like a little light of youth that once sparked in her, like the way it still currently sparked in Harry, had somehow faded out. Like a dim flicker, she allowed her thoughts to remain to herself, only brightening a bit when her husband, Viktor, would turn and say something to her. She gave him her utmost attentions, not regarding anyone else should they have been discussing anything prior with her. Viktor appeared to be calling the shots for her and it did not display well.
"Hey Bill," Sirius said, leaning over to his left side companion. Bill was taking a swig from a bottle of butter beer when addressed. "How long has Hermione been married to Viktor?"
"Let's see, guess its right over three years now. Wedding was really something; really grand. Live doves at the reception and everything. They rode off on a broom after they were announced. Funny story about the security, you see there were these three girls-"
"Thanks Bill, just curious. More turkey?" Sirius wasn't ready to hear the short version that was being prepared. Sirius was only on his third brandy of the evening and was not prepared for Bill's version of anything that included every minor detail, down to the color of buttons worn on a muggle suit.
Fleur was just turning to her husband to feed him a large bite of chocolate cake dangling from her fork, thankfully distracting Sirius's curt interruption. The two of them were still acting like newlyweds, while he was on the subject of marriages.
The dishes, plates, silver and pots were enchanted to be cleaned. Ginny would put everything away in their rightful place later in the evening after everyone had left. For now, she was going to have a drink and be social. All the way out of the kitchen and down the hall, she argued with her mother about how things could wait, but family and friends couldn't and to stay out of her kitchen for the rest of the year.
"Mum, this is not your house, it's mine and I say out!" Ginny scolded her mother for the last time as she dashed to stand in front of the kitchen door. Like her older brothers trying to put one passed their mother, her mother was trying to do the same by slipping back into the kitchen to supervise the cleaning and tidying up.
With a stern look from her daughter, Molly was forced to resign with the rest of her family and friends, to leave the kitchen duties to her baby to take care of. "You're just all grown up and I have no say in anything anymore!" With her arms folded, she pouted down the hallway.
"Not in this house, you don't," Ginny added, taking a manly sip of her spirit that was brought to her by her doting husband.
Hermione sat on the old velvet couch in the sitting room, her arm draped over the side and her head tilted in longing as the conversation next to her, led by Viktor, was going on about his latest new roll on a broom with only using his knees to grip.
"Hermione, I think we should be leaving very soon. I do not want to be getting back to your parents' too long after midnight," Viktor said, leaning in close to privately whisper into Hermione's ear.
"Everything will be fine if we get there late, I told you. This is a very special time for me," she whispered back, looking to him like a pleading child.
"Half hour more only, then," he whispered and turned back to carry on his louder conversation with the twins and Ron, not apologizing for turning away from them to speak to Hermione. He carried on talking about himself, treating them like flattering fans.
She had no argument with him and rather than thinking one up, Hermione got up, excusing herself to the loo, but really sneaking out to get a little fresh air. She took the door out the back kitchen, remembering that it led out into the garden that was now blanketed with patches of snow layers.
The backdoor slammed behind her as she stepped out onto the deck. The brisk air hit her face like a refreshing slap, cooling her off from the steam rising from within. She put her hands to her face and rubbed her cheeks to collect herself, relieving herself of the inner frustration.
"I don't want to scare you, but I'm right behind you," a voice said from the shadows against the house.
Hermione spun around where she stood, her boots scraping beneath her over the fallen snow. Leaning against the house like a boy skipping school was Sirius. Smoke surrounded him as he inhaled his forbidden cigarette. Her face softened for him, relieved that it was him over practically anyone else.
"Trying to sneak away?" she accused, offering him a slight smile as if they shared a secret.
"No, I never said that. Which must mean that you are," he replied. There was lightness in his voice as he spoke to her from beyond the shadows.
She sighed and lightly shook her head, "No, it's fine. I just really miss being here with everyone and I feel that I took it for granted for so long that I sort of miss not having it. Does that make sense?"
"No, I get it. You miss being in an old house that represents a dark childhood by fake-royalty parents that fed off of the torture of others, more gingers than you can count and a bitter old house elf that refuses to die. Yes, I get it completely," he chided leaning off of the house to put out his cigarette and dispose of it in a nearby trash bin.
"You know what I mean," she smiled. "I just miss the chaos of friend-like family. Being so far has its downfall. Never mind me, how have you been? You're adjusting well, I see."
"It's a slow process, but I am getting the hang of it, again. Still have my bad days," he said quietly, looking off into the garden set before them. "My dark days."
Hermione slowly nodded, as if clearly seeing his view on the matter and the magnitude of the deep wounds Azkaban left on him, even after so many years. She admired his profile, never realizing his sharp features were so handsome when dealt with a healthy way of life. He was like a classic painting fully restored to its perfection. She blinked a few times to bring her back to her senses and looked out over the snow covered night garden with him.
"Don't we all," she said, clearing her throat to reawaken her.
"Life does get busy. I guess that means we've grown up, doesn't it?"
"It does," she mused. She watched the way the light wind blew a few flakes of snow off a low hanging tree branch overlooking the garden.
"And married to a professional quidditch player, that would be tiring," he teased, mockery hidden in his voice.
Hermione smiled to herself, "Yeah."
"Harry talks about him often. I just keep forgetting to make the connection to you with him."
"Yes, that happens," she sighed, glancing quickly over at him and noticing that he was looking right at her.
"I can't see how anyone would miss you, though," he said to her kindly. He noticed that his compliment caused her to shift her footing uncomfortably. "You're the one that was always leading the way. What are you doing in Bulgaria?"
She looked over, somewhat sheepishly, "Nothing, actually."
"Nothing? I thought you were working with the Ministry on Ancient Muggle Artifacts. At least, that's what Harry mentioned something about." Sirius quirked an eyebrow in question.
"That was quite a bit ago. I guess Harry hasn't kept up with what I'm doing as much as what Viktor's been doing, lately. I stopped working for the Ministry a few months after we got married." Hermione explained it clearly, like she was indifferent to her current standing.
"So, you're not doing anything, at all? You are just a quidditch wife?"
"Well, we travel a lot. I keep up with Viktor's schedule, his appearances, and his meetings-"
"You mean you're his manager?"
"I wouldn't say that. I'm more than just a manager. I just haven't had time to really focus on what I want to do. I mean, you only have so many perfect years as a player. Viktor is in his prime, he's doing so well, and-" she was enlightened to talk about Viktor's current status, but hum-drum about her own.
"But, what about you, Hermione?" he asked, shoving her shoulder with his own. "What happened to that girl that was full of life? So full of useless knowledge that had the entire world in her little pocket and bailed out Harry and Ron when things got thick?"
She was quiet for a few moments before turning away. His eyes were too intense; she forced herself to look away, out of fear of disappointment. "She got married and changed her path."
Sirius shook his head, turning away to look out into the garden with her, almost without something to say further, but he managed to add something anyway. "That's not right, Hermione."
"Not right? Sirius, I truly doubt that you have any idea who I am. It's been ten years-"
"Maybe so, but it's barely been two for me. I just think that someone like you should be doing so much more."
"I like my life, Sirius. It's what I want." Her voice was barely strong enough for a fight and so she retreated quietly.
"I know," he admitted, before he stepped out of line. "It's not my place."
Their conversation ceased as the back door to the porch opened and Viktor stood waiting, holding Hermione's jacket over his arm. He looked at Sirius, nodding his respect and then looked at Hermione. "We go now, sweetheart. It's late."
"Right, it is," she replied to her husband and walked towards him, glancing back at Sirius. "It was good to see you, Sirius. I'm glad you're doing well."
Sirius pushed off from the wooden railing and smiled sweetly, his tone obedient, "You too. You've grown up into a lovely young woman."
She nodded and turned away, passing Viktor through the doorway to bid her good byes to her extended family, unsure when she would see them all again.
Sirius stood with his eyes on Viktor Krum as Hermione passed. There were no words exchanged, only a handshake and as the door squeaked closed, Sirius watched on as the solid wood met the metal frame and clicked. Nothing could have turned him off more than to see such a shining light so dim. It baffled him to no end how no one in the family could see how badly she was struggling to be someone she wasn't. Had her husband said anything, it probably would have been of no interest to Sirius, for he kept replaying the hint of a sincere smile that had teased across her lips when he spoke to her. It was almost as if he wanted to make her smile, or even just make her laugh. Whatever it was, it left him conflicted.
Hermione had changed into someone he never believed she was capable of. Granted, he never gave her any further thought when she was only his Harry's best friend, but it was the shadowed twinkle in her eye that hinted to him that she wanted to shine, even just one more time. The way she stood, the way she spoke, the way she would glance over to him, all drew him in to her intrigue. Whatever it was, there was no mistaking that to Sirius, Hermione was beautiful.