I have started my own mini-FB group for dark-themed fics (Dark Hearts, Dark Arts). For those interested, I have posted the link on my FFN Profile Page.

Chapter Three

The Trouble with Sirius

Hermione thought her biggest shock at 'breakfast' that evening—which took place shortly after the human portion of the school's welcome feast, allowing Professor McGonagall to attend both meals and give her start of year speech—was that as she looked about the smaller dining hall, she noticed the students weren't simply those with magical maladies. Some appeared to be genuine magical creatures. Or, at least, they were human-magical creature hybrids.

She was relatively certain that had been mentioned to her at some point, yet it was not until she was there, her gaze moving over the comparatively manageable number of students—perhaps fifty, in all?—that it sank in. The vampires were plainly obvious, as they didn't touch the food, only sipping dark crimson liquid from the goblets before them. The werewolves were not so obvious, but she thought the ones who looked tired and bore scars that could well be from claws were the most likely victims of the lycanthropy curse.

Then there were the interesting ones. The girl with the horns curling gracefully over the back of her head, and the boy with the shimmery light around him—no doubt one of his parents was some sort of fairy, and she had satyr blood. Everywhere she looked, she had to remind herself not to stare. She found them all so interesting, but knew how easy it would be for the children to misunderstand her scrutiny and start feeling self-conscious.

No, no. The shock was to find that her seat at the faculty table was between Remus and Sirius. Though, she supposed given that she was Remus' teaching assistant, and they were both legally responsible for Sirius while the issue of his state of being was sorted, it made sense. Yet, after her dream about Remus earlier that day, and that steamy little thought transfer experiment with Sirius, she thought it was no wonder at all that she'd feel on edge seated between them.

Had Sirius told Remus about the abilities he'd uncovered?

And then, of course, there was the way he'd told her to ask him about what he'd imagined when they saw one another after they woke up. Those words couldn't help but keep her acutely aware of Sirius' attention flickering to her face every few moments.

After Professor McGonagall finished welcoming the new students—no Houses for the Night Class, unity and building trust between the smaller, nocturnal student body, as a whole, was more important, she'd declared, than the tradition of sorting, and if they decided they wanted Houses when they felt comfortable and settled, they simply needed to ask—and introducing the faculty, she granted the teachers a tired grin and bid the room good night. As happened with the feast in the Great Hall, the room erupted into conversation nearly the moment she stepped down from the podium.

Which only made Hermione more aware of her place at the table. Because there was silence between the three of them. Looking over at Remus, who offered her an awkward grin—oh, dear, he was remembering that little almost-moment they'd had before they'd been summoned by Kingsley, wasn't he?—she then darted her gaze toward Sirius. The dark-haired wizard was now focused on eating his food, though she could tell he somehow sensed her attention on him, because a wicked smirk curved his lips as he ate.

She was about to lean over and ask Sirius in a whisper if he'd shared any . . . well, shareable information from last night with Remus, but Remus spoke up then. Quick save, too, she realized—though he couldn't have known that, as she wasn't sure how she'd explain knowing about Sirius' new abilities without bringing up his trip to her room. And she had no idea how Remus would feel about that entire scenario . . . .

Oh, dear sweet Lord. The first night of school wasn't even fully underway and she was already in a mess.

"There's been an interesting development with Sirius's state," the werewolf said before pausing to take a sip of his coffee. "I've written up a short list, if you think you could spare some time to run to the library between classes and handle a bit of research?"

Turning her head, she met Remus' leaf-green gaze. "Sure." Immediately, she realized that the pretense was nothing more than a form of lying to him. And she didn't want to lie to him. Her shoulders slumping, she said, "Remus, listen—"

"She already knows, Moony." Sirius shrugged, speaking around a mouthful of food.

Hermione winced as the werewolf's brows shot up. "You do?"

Burying her face in her hands, she groaned.

"Was a bit of an embarrassing situation. I sort of fell into her room, scared the bejeezus out of both of us."

While that was a dramatically shortened version of events, it was the basics of what had happened. Nodding she lifted her head from her hands, only to have Remus target her with another mystified look.

"I'm still not certain why you didn't mention this straight away. It's a pretty startling development."

Her shoulders slumped. She shook her head, and imploring gleam in her eyes. "I'm sorry I didn't mention it, Remus. I—"

"I think she was worried what you'd think if you found out some other bloke was in her room in the middle of the night—well, day."

Caught entirely off-guard by Sirius' blurted statement, she couldn't stop her eyes from shooting wide as she stared back at Remus. And she certainly couldn't do a bloody thing about the bloom of color flaring in her cheeks.

Sirius' words, combined with her reaction, spoke volumes and she knew it.

Swallowing hard, she managed to tear her gaze from Remus'. Shifting in her seat to face Sirius, she asked, "A word, if you would, Sirius?" Glancing at Remus over her shoulder, she offered a tight smile and crinkled the bridge of her nose at him. "'Scuse us a moment, please."

Anger twisting her features, she shot up from her seat and retreated to a far corner of the dining hall, ducking behind a pillar so Remus would not be able to read her expression; indeed, the placement seemed to block any view of the entire room. Unfortunately, Sirius' mirthful countenance somehow managed to be visible even if one was looking at the back of his damned head, and he stood so that the pillar did not fully conceal him.

Trailing after her, he waited until the witch spun on her heel to face him before he asked, "Problem?"

She blinked rapidly a few times. "Problem? Are you joking right now? Yes, of course there's a bloody problem! You promised me you wouldn't tell Remus, so what the hell was that just now?"

"Ah." Nodding, Sirius held up his finger. "I promised you I would not tell him about the dream you'd had about him. And I'm not really 'telling' him anything, anyway, I'm hinting. Laying the groundwork for you to be able to open up to him about how you feel."

Her shoulders slumping, she uttered a mirthless laugh. "I don't understand you! You tell me to come ask you just how 'imaginative' you were about what you showed me this morning, and now you're trying to force me to talk feelings with Remus. Just what is it you want?"

Sirius' features pinched uncomfortably as he let out a sigh. "I actually don't know. I didn't even expect to be here, if you'll recall. I think coming back through the Veil is messing with my perceptions a bit."

Uttering a scoffing sound, she gave a nod. "I'm inclined to agree."

"But . . . ."

Hermione arched a brow as she echoed the word. "But?"

Holding her gaze, his blue-grey eyes took on a heated look that stole her breath as he said, "But I think what I want—well, one of the things I want—is you."

At his confession, her skin heated and she felt the thrum of her own pulse beneath her skin. "Oh?" she managed in a mildly strangled tone.

He nodded. "There's another but."

"Oh," she said again, laughing in spite of herself. " Go on, then."

Sirius' expression grew uncharacteristically, well, serious, as he said, "I don't want to come between you and Remus if he's what you really want."

"I . . . ." She let her voice trail off as some spark in his gaze—something that was both mischievous and flirtatious, in a way that put the Sirius she remembered to shame—caught her attention. Caught her attention and seemed to reel her in, somehow, because she couldn't help the way she gaped up at him, her breath catching in her throat as she waited for him to share whatever more he might be thinking.

Running the tip of his tongue along his lips, he glanced back toward the table. Oh, poor Remus, looking so very lonely over there as he kept darting his gaze over to the corner into which they'd disappeared, all while attempting not to appear as though he was trying to watch them.

Returning his attention to her, Sirius disappeared behind the pillar as he leaned into her. God, he adored the startled, shivering gasp that she drew in to find herself pinned by his body. Adored the flush of color in her fair cheeks as she stared up at him unblinking.

She knew she found his forwardness a little alarming, but she could not deny being wildly curious. She couldn't deny being intrigued to have this sort of attention from Sirius Black focused on her.

"I want you to want Remus," he said, his voice low and gentle, the pitch almost a purring sound. "But I've also just realized what it is that I want. And I . . . I think it somehow ties into whatever it is that's been changed about me when I was behind the Veil. I don't think I'm human, anymore Hermione. Truly."

Hermione forced a gulp down her throat, having trouble focusing on his words, the movement of his lips as he spoke utterly enthralling. "Oh? What, um, what is it you think you returned as?"

He shrugged and, pressed so close to her, she could feel the shifting of his muscles through his clothes at that movement. "Some . . . some sort of, I dunno, maybe an incubus spirit, or something?"

Her brows shot up, though she wondered if his line of thinking made sense, given that there was some back corner of her mind that was picturing climbing him right here and now. Nodding as she tried to control her breathing and the over-eager imagining of her own subconscious, she said, "Could . . . could be."

"Maybe that's why I thought what I did when I touched you this morning. Was literally the first idea that popped into my head. Why it felt like it did."

"How's it . . . ?" Shaking her head, she tried again, hyper-aware of his body pressed to hers, of his warm breath whispering over her mouth and making the delicate skin of her lips tingle. "How's that tie into knowing what you want?"

He smirked, mirth dancing in the depths of his gaze. "I realized it as I said the words."

"I don't understand. What words?"

Sirius lifted his hand to cup her jaw. Watching the movement of his own finger, he traced her lips with the edge of his thumb as he answered. "Just now, when I said I don't want to come between you and Remus." Deep down some part of him was screaming. Raging at himself not to tell her this—that to share this feeling would scare her off. Yet, he couldn't seem to stop himself. Not with the way she was staring up at him like this, those large chestnut eyes blinking drowsily and her mouth open ever so slightly in quick, shallow breaths.

She didn't know quite when, but at some point, she'd raised her hands. The flat of her palms pressed to his chest, but not to push him away, rather to curl her fingers into the fabric of his robes and keep him close.

Finally, pushing himself to clarify, he leaned nearer, still. His face over her shoulder, his lips brushing her ear, and every fiber of his being adoring the way she shivered against him, he whispered, "I was wrong. Soon as I said the words, I knew I was wrong, because coming between you and Remus is exactly what I want."