A note from Serade Black: I'm so pleased to have another chapter out so quickly. I have refocused where I was going with this story and now it's finally getting a little bit more flushd out. Slow and steady is my motto, so thank you to all of those that are sticking with me. Due to recent additions to , I have discovered a really neat feature. It's called Reader Traffic and I can now see who is ready my stories worldwide. I was amazed, so this is the first time I'm happy to send sincere HELLOS to all those in other countries (Pakistan, Russia, Germany, Phillipines, etc...). I'm deeply touched and amazed how small this world truly is. Enjoy SB
Ch. 10 - A Rose by Any Other Name
The small dollhouse-like cottage that Hermione had made a temporary home was still and dark. With no light on inside, it was completely black; the moonlight outside shone through the kitchen windows creating a silhouette of everything in the house.
"Use your wand for light," Hermione whispered to Sirius as he slowly stepped inside, bearing himself for anything.
He turned around and held a single finger up to his lips to silence her, "No, I see better in the dark."
Very quietly he moved into the house with feather-like steps like a shadow. Slinking into the hallway and blending into the darkness, he was almost completely unnoticed until the wooden floor creaked under his feet due to age. Though very good at night vision, he still kept one hand in front of him to warn him of walls or furniture that might be out of place. His other hand aimed his wand forward, ready to strike any intruder that might catch him off guard.
His ears peaked, his sense of smell straining itself, he sensed Hermione coming behind him. Disobeying his instructions, she illuminated her wand ahead of her and even with the dimmest light, she still cast shadows of themselves against the wall.
Nothing moved, all was still, but the grandfather clock in the foyer by the front door seemed to tick louder than it ever had. Quiet steps strived as they avoided walking into direct beams of moonlight as it splashed in from the open curtains in the small sitting room they carefully entered. With Hermione close behind him, using his body to shield most of her wand light tip, she looked ahead of him and tried to make out anything in the house that wasn't right.
At Sirius's feet, something scampered passed him when he'd reached the center of the small room. Acting fast, he pushed Hermione against the wall to safety and he dove into the kitchen right passed the archway that was lit like a path. He quickly ignited a small lantern that sat on the table top and turned around, his wand arm ready to strike.
Further light revealed a medium sized mutt breed had somehow entered the house and managed to knock over a stack of pans that were balancing in an underneath open cupboard. Not taller than two feet, he appeared to be quite the mix of a short golden retriever mixed with a dash of terrier.
Hermione hadn't yet seen the intruder where she was standing; she only heard Sirius sigh and then chuckle a relief. She illuminated a nearby lantern that sat on a hutch she had fallen into and let out a surprised 'yelp' as she watched the dog bounding over to Sirius, who was already on his hands and knees to comfort the stray.
For the seconds following, Hermione clutched her chest as she saw the happy wagging tail meeting her company. "Oh, Merlin!" she sighed. "I guess he must have...gotten in through the cat door." Hermione tilted her head towards the kitchen, noticing now there was a cut out pet door near the bottom.
"He's not yours then?" Sirius asked as he scratched the scruffy dog on his back, making his leg thump furiously. With a big grin, Sirius shook his head goofy, praising the dog and making funny sounds for him to be comforted as they played together on the oval rug in the middle of the sitting room.
"I would know if I had a dog. He's cute, though," Hermione said petting the furry canine with shaggy feet.
She took a moment to look around the small cottage, to check and see if anything else was out of place. Of course, she'd not spent enough time in that area to really take notice what would be in the wrong place. She was sure that the Professor would have said something if she had to take care of a dog. The scruffy mutt would have shown itself by now. Besides, everyone knew that Professor McGonagall was more of a cat person.
Hermione went to the loveseat to set down her satchel, while listening to Sirius "talk" to the dog with an endearing "ruff". As he hunched on all fours, mimicking the dog's movements, she couldn't help but smirk as the dashing motorcycle rider was no more.
Feeling watchful eyes on him, he looked up and cleared his throat for a moment as he composed himself, "I'm a bit of a dog lover."
Hermione stood, crossing her arms in front of her, and nodding her head as if she'd just discovered a hidden side of the arrogant one, "I gathered that."
"He's got a collar with an address. Lauley Street is only the next one over, so I can take him back," Sirius took to scratching the dog in a special spot behind his ear. "Probably just gallivanting around and checking out the neighborhood."
"Perhaps," Hermione agreed, still grinning from witnessing such a display of devotion. She nearly forgot that he was an Animagus that could also turn into a big black dog.
Hermione turned to go into the kitchen to put some water into a bowl for their new friend. Illuminating extra lights as she walked along, Sirius's eyes followed her every move.
He watched her carefully as it was obvious she hadn't gotten her bearings yet of where things were in the pastel country kitchen with floral blue curtains. Passing by various cookbooks that lined the countertop with odds and bobs of kitchen utensils, she opened several cupboards before finding the right one.
Her long brown hair bounced behind her, half restrained by a wooden barrette. She wasn't as glamorous as his normal type, nor did she pile on the make-up more than what was necessary to notice that she held a quiet natural beauty about her. A slim waist hid behind the slightly bulky jacket she still wore, but it was when she shed it before him after finding the bowl did he really get to appreciate her assets.
"Would you mind filling this up? I have to dash upstairs," she asked, already moving out of the kitchen passed him. "Those five pints..."
Sirius watched her hasten her steps towards the stairs in the foyer. Smiling to himself, he pushed up off the rug and gently patted the dog to follow behind him. The older house creaked its age as he listened to her footsteps above. Trying to shake off his exceptional sense of hearing, he busied himself with filling up the bowl in the sink for his furry friend.
As the short dog slurped happily, Sirius went back into the sitting room to better view her surroundings. What looked like an old lady's house, he gagged a little to himself as he really got an eyeful of the enchanting decorations of old portraits, peach colored furniture and statues of cats. Attempting to look like an elegant parlor, it was hard to get past the doilies that were accenting any and every flat surface with a vase or figurine placed on top of it. An old multi-colored afghan draped over the back of the love seat in a sandy beige color. A polished coffee table sat perfectly before it, stacked with several books and scattered papers of notes that were obviously Hermione's.
One of the books caught his interest, as it appeared to be quite old and the title had just about been worn off. Out of curiosity, he lifted the front cover and hummed to himself with his discovery. Next to it, another large worn book laid open and he checked the inside cover of that one; a third nearby read the same. Letting a small smile creep over his lips, it was good to see that the mystery was finally over.
A good sneeze from the kitchen indicated that his furry friend was done with the bowl of water and was making his way towards the sitting room, stopping momentarily for a pat from Sirius. With a snap of his fingers, the dog seemed to understand him and went towards the front door to stay out of the nice man's way. The adventure of the night obviously satisfied him and with a few kind words, the dog curled up to take a short nap until it was time to go.
"I know how that goes, my friend," Sirius whispered as the dog finally lay down after the third circle.
Folding his hands behind his back, he went to go and look over the portraits on the wall that were presently sleeping. Skimming the wall for something mildly interesting, he noticed some framed awards from the Ministry and Hogwarts, with a scrawled name that looked quite familiar. He did a double take when the award next to it reflected the same name.
Hermione was careful not to disrupt the napping guest by the front door when she went in to say good-bye to Sirius, who appeared to be reading the walls as if he were in a museum.
"Well, thank you for-"
"Is this Professor McGonagall's house?" Sirius asked cutting her off. He was still tilting his head to try and make out the cryptic writing of another award. His hair fell in his eyes and it looked like short little curtains had kept him from seeing her.
Swallowing at first, nervous he was asking questions, she replied, "Ah, yes, I'm her niece. She's letting me stay here for a little while." In the corner of her eye, she noticed her papers scattered on the coffee table, probably exposing some form of information that he shouldn't be aware of.
"Huh," Sirius chuckled, shaking his head after giving up trying to read the funny looking foreign language on another award. "Anyway, so will you meet me for dinner tomorrow night?"
As if he'd snuck up on her, she immediately jumped being caught off guard with such a casual request. Her breath hitched in her throat and she spun around to face him, blanking and without an answer. She was absolutely shocked, stunned and worse, unprepared.
Her mouth opened, but nothing came out. It was a cruel realization that she had come across the line too far, too far into his life, and now as he proposed a dinner date, there was the fear of not being able to back away slowly.
"I can't meet you for dinner, Sirius," she said slowly, more for her than him. "I...I..."
"Yes, you can," he nodded slowly, somewhat mocking her sweetly.
His invitation was so casual for it to roll of his tongue, as if he said that sentence all the time. But to her, she felt like the entire timeline of their lives was going to just twirl into a tornado and disappear into oblivion. She was chilled to the bone that those words were suggested in her presence that it was no wonder why wizards, or witches, went mad when using the Time Turner.
Oh, but he was so handsome to say no to. Those dark eyes shadowed by finely trimmed eyebrows, a perfectly cut jaw and a smile that seemed to make everything alright. Standing in the low light of the little sitting room, she found herself blinking a few times that she didn't see the older Sirius standing before her in younger threads.
She hadn't realized, in her hazy blurred mind of trying to make any and all excuse why they couldn't do dinner, he had taken a few steps closer.
"Meet me...Hermione."
Her eyes rushed to his as if his discovery was going to unthread their existence and for a moment, she panicked. But, it was a name he hadn't learned in his life yet and it dripped off his tongue in the most perfect way, it was like he invented it.
"You're the only one I've met that puts their name on the inside dotted line of old textbooks."
Hermione glanced away, appearing obviously beaten that she was unable to secure her real name. Sirius had given her a bit of hope by using a nickname, but now that it was out, there was no hiding it from him now.
"That's a name you're probably better off not knowing," she whispered solemnly, feeling guilty about ever coming back to begin with now that he'd found himself standing so close to her.
Sirius was finding it very hard to read her. She was timid, yes. She was shy, a bit. She was mysterious, no doubt. But, it was he saying her name that made him wonder more about her. Never had a dinner invitation caused a witch to react like this.
"It's a very pretty name, Hermione," he complimented.
She sighed, "Thank you."
The grandfather clock ticked quietly from the foyer, chiming once for the half hour. She could feel his eyes burning against her as she stood there like a wilting flower, showing complete disrespect from the casual invitation. A blow to his ego, certainly. He spoke before she had a chance to explain further.
"Well, as awkward as this is right now, I'm not going to push for dinner. Starting tomorrow, I will show up at three-thirty in Diagon Alley everyday, waiting in front of Flourish and Blotts."
Hermione finally lifted her eyes to his, after staring at the buttons on his shirt the entire time he spoke, "Sirius, please don't do that. You're just wasting your time."
"Then, you better come meet me," he said, turning to go towards the door and leaving her standing in the sitting room. He snapped his fingers, bending down to pet the dog that guarded the door like a loyal servant.
"Sirius-" she called out, but he was already letting himself out the door.
"Good night, Hermione," he called back over his shoulder, taking the steps in front of the door two at a time. The short dog was at his heels, wagging his tail and the two disappeared as if they apparated away into thin air.
Hermione stared into the vacant street before her, the door being held open by the sheer chance he would come back and take away his invitation, but there was no chance. His footsteps could be heard down the street, echoing off the houses he passed by, before turning off and finding the dog's rightful home.
Shaking her head, she slowly shut the door and stared longer at the ivory colored wood with copper handle, searching her mind for inspiration or a better plan. She turned around and leaned against the door for support, her mind racing a thousand miles per second.
In a matter of ten minutes, the harsh reality was starting to sink in and it wasn't because of the butterbeer she had consumed. The entire night had not been a dream, but a brief glimpse into another world, another life, another time all together. She believed herself to be a very talented witch, but that was mostly book smarts. What she wasn't ready for was the sheer reality of innocent lives that had been wasted for a poor cause.
She started to feel a twisting pain inside her stomach that was beginning to pinch like severe cramps. No matter how talented, she'd realized that she had not mentally prepared for the obvious outcome. Her heart was in the right place at first: return to 1981, tell Sirius how much he was appreciated and then return back home, no worries. But, she had shared a beer with James Potter. She shook the hand of his killer. She had discussed literature with Remus. And she had been asked out on a date with the most notorious of the foursome.
They had all been like fiction characters in books reading them year after year. But, it was feeling Sirius's hair whip her face as they rode his motorcycle, hearing James laugh with Peter, seeing Remus smile proudly at his brethren and seeing their lives unfold before her was not what she was prepared for.
The ticking of the grandfather clock was loud and very symbolic as she found herself counting down the days until it all ended. Tick - tock, the clock went, signifying moments rushing by that could not be replaced. Tick - tock...the day was nearly over. Tick - tock...Sirius was out there now, amongst his enemies, believing that he was nearly invincible. A happier more carefree Sirius Black was presently walking home a fellow furry friend where anyone could strike.
Exhaustion was beginning to take its toll on her body. The evening having taken quite a bit out of her, she pushed herself off the door and slowly, weakly, climbed the stairs. Without realizing it, she had allowed herself to cry a quiet sob, a depressed sob, and a tear fell slowly down her cheek. Her insides were churning a little more over this ordeal, but in the end, there was nothing she could truly change. She would do what she had intended, somehow make Sirius believe he was worth it all and go home. Perhaps being his friend, the one witch that wouldn't judge him, might be the key.
Of course, then again, all of this would have been a lot easier to think out if he wasn't so damn cute.
-0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0-
Four days later, Hermione was listening to her own footsteps echoing off the old brick building that sat on the sidewalk she followed. Crack after crack, this part of London would go completely unnoticed if not for the particularly trained eye.
Overhead, a creaking old iron sign with a witch stirring a cauldron swung in the breeze. To muggles it was just some rusted old sign, but to wizards and witches, it was the entry way to the Leaky Cauldron.
She passed on through, nodding to the barkeep that gave a polite wave as she made her way to the brick wall that made up the entrance to Diagon Alley. The correct taps lead her through, emptying out onto a half crowded cobblestone road where she stayed on the right side of the sidewalk.
On her right, the Apothecary advertised new herbs that had just arrived and she noticed that business was about normal. It was good to know that even with all the darkness out there, some wizards still had time to shop. A screech across the street alerted her of Eeylop's Owl Emporium, but she knew she had arrived at the right place when she saw a slender figure sitting on the bench in front of Flourish and Blotts, with his arms opened wide around the bench and a leg bent over his knee.
He was chewing gum as he watched the people passing by, not looking like he was waiting on anyone at all and more like it was his job to sit there. His shoulder length hair was half pulled back in a pony tail, but so many black wisps had fallen free, what was the point. He wore a maroon colored long sleeved buttoned shirt, with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, worn blue jeans and boots. He wore one or two silver bracelets on his wrist and at least two rings on each hand, including one on his thumb.
Hermione had made it all the way to the end of the bench before he looked up and when he did, a warm smile greeted her enough she couldn't help but blush.
He chewed on, "I wasn't worried. Four days wasn't bad."
She averted her eyes to the ground, shoving her hands into the pockets of her jacket. Nervously, she fidgeted on her foot, wishing that he would stop staring at her so smug.
"Yes, well, I got bored."
He nodded his head, still looking quite comfortable and casual, playing her up as if that was a decent excuse, "Nice shirt."
Hermione knew that wearing her old Rolling Stone's t-shirt was a good move. It fit the time period, it was a little more casual, it might encourage conversation with him and it belonged to her mother many many years ago.
"Come on, you have to go inside and say hi to Remus. He didn't believe you were ever going to show up," Sirius said, jumping up and opening the door to the bookstore for her.
Bells jingled off the door handle when the two breezed in and Remus was just finishing up helping a customer bundle up their books. He didn't appear too pleased with helping him and gave Sirius a nod once he saw him. Sirius only glanced at the customer he was helping at first, but a second look and he knew who that fur lined cape and snake cane belonged to.
Remus thanked the man with the short blonde hair and bid him a good day that was only one way received. With a dramatic flourish of his cape, the bundle of books dropped on the floor to be retrieved by the servant house elf that cowered by his knees. He turned on his heel to vacate the store.
Sirius stood next to Hermione, his arm draped casually over the banister as he waited and sneered appropriately. His free hand resting on the back pocket of his jeans, in case that cane got too close to him and he'd have to take out his wand.
"Give my regards to my cousin, will you, Lucius?" Sirius purred, almost sarcastically.
Hermione gave a gasp at first she saw who it was, fearful that her face would be recognized. Not so much now, but for future reasons. She immediately hid behind Sirius, using him as a shield and allowing him to believe he could serve as her protector.
At first Lucius Malfoy stopped, having been prepared to further the conversation with his in-law that stood so defiantly before him. Observing the way Sirius was dressed in more casual threads, Lucius turned his nose up at him as if he were yesterday's garbage.
"You'll get yours, Black!" he strained a threat.
Hermione peeked from behind him, noticing Lucius to be quite younger, not much older than she. Still, she kept her face hidden.
Sirius smirked and shook his head arrogantly, "At least I'm not afraid to show my face. It's sad to know that your pitiful son will end up like you someday. "
"Be careful who's company you keep, she smells of mudblood all over her," Lucius spat, aiming right for his heart.
Hermione squeezed her eyes shut and gripped the back of Sirius's shoulders, mentally begging him not to go after Lucius Malfoy. For if it hadn't been for her being there, he wouldn't have said it.
Just as predicted, Sirius did lunge at Lucius, but was restrained by the sound of Remus's voice, "Sirius, not here."
"Yes, that's right. Do what you're told like a good...dog," he smirked. Turning to leave again, he called out, "Come, Dobby!"
"And you as well, Lucius! Be sure to do what you're told!" Sirius shouted back with venom. Before Lucius was out the door, he received a rather irritated look from his family by marriage and Sirius found a bit of satisfaction in knowing that he had touched a nerve, after all.
Once he was out of view and out of the store, Sirius turned around and inquired on Hermione who was still gripping his shirt, "You okay? I'm sorry, love. I'm so sorry."
"It's fine," Hermione said, having heard that word called in her direction more than once.
"No, it's not. That man has no class and sadly, he married my cousin," Sirius felt compelled to explain more than she already knew.
His eyes were open and sincere, trying to make the excuse for his insult. Taking the off color remark worse that she did, it appeared that he had a thing for rescuing the damsel in distress.
"I'm sorry for you," she said, smiling. Unconsciously, she reached out and rested her hand across his, rather firm, chest trying to calm him and let him know that she wasn't bothered by it.
"Darling, you're shaking," he insisted, taking her free hand in his.
Like touching fire, she immediately pulled her hand off of his chest and quickly averted her eyes, "No, I'm fine. It's not because of that."
Observing her sudden reaction after touching him, Sirius couldn't help but smile again, the flirt trying to surface, "Not because of that? Then what?"
"Oh, not you...I mean..." Hermione had a loss for words when she heard his tone to be something more suggestive and immediately found herself gasping for water like a fish on the dock.
Sirius patiently waited for a better answer, nodding away like he had caught her thinking something else. She, in turn, just looked at him blankly, both like the deer in headlights and like that fish out of water with nothing to say. She swallowed nervously as his piercing clear eyes studied her closely and she quickly averted her interest to Remus, who still stood behind his clerk counter.
"Hello Remus!" She called out to distract the two of them in whatever interlude she had put them in.
Across the store, not very far, the sandy colored wizard returned his greeting to the frazzled girl that was having a hand held by Sirius. It almost appeared that even though he worked there, he may have been interrupting something.
The two made it over to Remus for closer conversation, Sirius very close behind his damsel. His eyes instinctively followed down the length of her, taking in every inch of her womanly figure. The "church attire" had been shed.
Remus smiled the closer the witch got, catching his mate doing his normal thing, "I'll be honest, I thought you were going to make him wait out there forever, Rose."
"It's Hermione, now," Sirius interrupted.
"Hermione?"
"Long story, don't ask," Sirius said, leaning over the counter casually as he watched the two talk.
Hermione just smiled, slightly embarrassed at the name change, but pleased when Sirius blew it off.
"Sorry about that, mate. He's just a prick and sometimes-"
"I know, but sometimes you really need to control that temper of yours. If you're not careful, you're going to wind up getting yourself killed," Remus warned, stacking a few books in front of him to put away.
"Or worse, put in Azkaban," Hermione piped in, biting her tongue quickly after.
"Hey, easy now. First, get your priorities straight and two, don't be making threats like those," Sirius corrected leaning back up. "And for the record, I'd rather be dead if I had a choice for Azkaban."
"Well, none of us are going in there, so let's not worry too much about that," Remus tried to lighten up, coming around his clerk desk carrying a stack of books.
Sirius turned around and leaned his elbows against the clerk counter as he watched his friend work, "Well, I think James should after wearing that god awful costume the other night. Bloke's risking his life putting on rags like that."
"Technically, it was Peter that put him up to that," Remus corrected, dropping a couple of books once he tried ascending up the ladder with them.
"Levitatus," Sirius said, as he grouped the books together with aiming wand. "Dear old Peter, sometimes his heart is bigger than his brain."
Hermione glanced over at Sirius when he mentioned Peter's name and his fond thoughts of him. It was enough to feel a burning in her heart over such betrayal they had no idea about. Shaking it off, she watched Sirius do magic to help his friend with his books.
"Can you get those over there, I left my wand by my register," Remus asked, pointing to another stack by the staircase. Sirius had just gotten the last book to him and Hermione was already taking out her wand.
With a swish and flick, Hermione already had the second stack floating his way. She kept them bound and guided them towards Remus, who stood high on the ladder.
Sirius turned his head, lowering his wand arm and looking at her mildly impressed, "Non verbal magic?"
She followed his lead and leaned her elbows back on the clerk counter, matching his stance, "Yes, can't you?" She knew he could.
"Absolutely!" he snorted, as if chuffed that she even doubted him.
"Only until recently," Remus added.
"Shut it!" Sirius threatened. He never took his eyes off the pretty brunette that feigned slight arrogance.
"Well, I've been pretty good at it for quite sometime, actually. Since my sixth year at school, to be exact," Hermione boasted. She couldn't help but notice Sirius raising an eyebrow.
"Sirius, when was it for you? Your twentieth birthday, perhaps?" Remus chimed in, once again. A cool smile coveted his lips as he watched his best mate squirm.
"Well, we've got to go. Remus, you can stack your own books, mate," Sirius interrupted. He pushed himself off the counter and adjusted his collar nervously.
Hermione finally tucked her wand away, after letting a few extra books soar through the air to Remus. Some extra volumes of Hogwarts a History dove obediently to their normal slots on some vacant shelves with an elegant flutter.
"Have fun you two...and Hermione?" Remus asked with a light fatherly tone.
She turned around while standing in the doorway; her brown wavy hair resting around her shoulders wildly, "Yes?"
"Don't make him wait so long, next time," he smiled, sliding a book in its place.
That light rose colored hue started to fill her cheeks as she turned towards the open door that Sirius held for her.
As he joined her outside, Sirius slid his hands into the pockets of his own jeans as he asked, "So, do I have you for dinner, or just the afternoon?"
Hermione glanced over, careful not to bump into him so he wouldn't believe she was flirting. Their steps on the sidewalk going towards the Quidditch store in unison together. Her hands busied in her own jacket pockets.
"Ah, just the afternoon," she said carefully.
Of course her calendar was completely empty; she had to at least pretend like she had more things going on. Spending time with Sirius like this was both dangerous and heavenly and she promised herself that when she got back to her own time, hopefully to a softer older Sirius, she'd be sure to spend a little more time with him.
Like using the sense of sight for the first time, Hermione was meeting an entirely different Sirius Black. More than just a pretty face, his personality and character started to come out, that it almost appeared like a new version of what she already knew.
Back at Grimmauld Place, she and Sirius would have their occasional rows. Complete with near name calling, heated words and rounding out into an apology or medium ground. Neither one intended to throw flames; it was just in their own make-up to be argumentative and stubborn at the same time. Younger Sirius had less of an opinionated mind. He seemed far more rounded in all aspects of what he spoke about, rather than just focusing on the dismal and negative.
She discovered that he had a strong fondness for both muggle and wizard rock, complete with his bragging of owning every copy of the original issue of the Beatles albums as well as the Hobgoblins, all on their original vinyl. He chimed in small trivia bits on what had happened, music-wise, wherever they walked, not realizing that most of the newer establishments had been hidden by muggle storefronts.
Hermione found herself submerging herself more and more into his character, that by the end of the late afternoon/early evening she was counting how many times he wet his lips before going off on some tangent on what he believed the current Minister of Magic should do to correct the hunt for Voldemort. Though his thinking was a bit farfetched, Hermione didn't care. She just let him go on, smiling once in awhile whenever she'd hear the older Sirius coming through.
"...and we end here."
Hermione and Sirius had gone round and round about why so many followers and supporters of the good side hadn't come out that she hadn't even noticed that he had walked her right back to her house.
She looked up, seeing the cute cookie cutter house standing before her like a light shone at last call of a pub. It represented an ending, a time-out and a reminder that he no longer existed in her time. The gentle, softer, younger Sirius with more of an open mind just held a content grin across his lips that he had had a good afternoon. No strings. No insinuations. At least, not until she invited him inside.
"I hate for you to miss your dinner plans," he said almost somberly.
For a second, Hermione missed the arrogant man that she had first gotten to know when she first arrived. So sure of himself, so confident and now she almost saw the shadow of the older Sirius that he was going to be. Still fun, still lighthearted in his carefree youth. But, it was when he looked away after wishing her a good night with her dinner plans that she noticed something in him. Sincerity.
"Right," she said almost in a whisper. His hidden character almost caught her off guard, that she couldn't pull her eyes away when he spoke to her like she'd taken something from him.
Barely saying good-bye, she reminded herself that letting him inside the house was not a good idea. Her notes were still splayed all over the coffee table, tabs were sticking out of her Time Turner book, a modern watch sat on the kitchen table and overall, looking at him for any longer periods of time might give him the wrong idea.
She nodded her head as her only thank you and stepped away to unlatch the small front gate that guarded four feet of the house.
"Hermione?" Sirius asked with an unsure voice.
When he said her name, it sounded different than all the other times he did. A slightly higher octave than the thirty - six year old she'd known, not yet grave and tainted from years of pollution in Azkaban. She turned around, meeting his dark eyelashes from about ten feet away.
"Yes, Sirius?" she asked in a voice that probably wasn't appropriate for the situation.
He stared at her for a moment, as if timid for what he was about to pronounce, but pressed on, "Are you with anyone?"
Like someone had dropped a bucket on her, a cold rush started at her toes and worked its way up her body in a foreign fashion. Like a shy animal, her voice wasn't loud enough to answer.
She cleared her throat for more volume, "I am."
She flat out lied to him. Her feelings immediately went to Ron at the first word, still not completely over him due to the years they had spent together, nearly creating a family. His name was still on her lips whenever she'd think of or picture a boyfriend in any nature. But, for Sirius to inquire, for him to even be interested in her...it was completely out of the question. Absolutely, no thought.
"Is he in America?" Sirius's voice was questionable, as if it was slowing being pulled out of him to find out more about the potential competition, if any.
She needed to hold onto the idea of Ron. It was her only lifeline in this sinking ship she was beginning to crawl into. It was obvious Sirius Black was interested in someone like her, which was unheard of, because she didn't fit the normal formula and if she were to bite the bullet and concede...terrible things could happen. Hold onto Ron.
"For right now," she said timidly. The time between their answers was long, drawn out, as if sinking in quicksand and you were slowly trying to pull yourself out to make the situation right.
Sirius just stared at her, he didn't press on, he didn't move forward, barely anything was insinuated and in the end he just said, "He's a lucky man."
She saw it again. That glimmer of realness to him. That inner core breaking through that outer shell that was so hard, so tough, so much the fighter.
The trees blew in the distance, a few stray leaves broke away from their final green threads and they flew through the air before falling to the earth and gliding across the sidewalk. In the distance a dog barked, probably their friend from the other night and with a tinkle in the air from a nearby wind chime, Hermione remembered to blink after his compliment.
"Thank you," she said with a slight smile. Small butterflies started to grow larger and larger in her belly, signifying the slight euphoria one felt when they were beginning to grow fond of another. Such an innocent emotion that people hardly stopped to appreciate.
Feeling the world watching him, Sirius shrugged his shoulders and immediately returned back to the person she first met. His back was straight, his chin high, his hair tilted just in front of his sightline and he added a flirting smirk.
"Tomorrow, then? Same time?"
Hermione watched his momentary transformation and she slowly let the slight smile grow more into a playful grin, seeing the old dog come through. Feeling her cheeks warm with the way he looked at her, this time attempting to reach out with a platonic flirtation, she shied away.
"Yes, same time."
"Dinner?"
She smiled and shook her head honestly, "Probably not."
Sirius nodded back, pursing his lips in a funny way that told her he got the message about being turned down properly. With a wink and a flip of his hair he gave her a wave and started back down the sidewalk alone.
Hermione watched him disappear down the walk, a small part of her wishing that she could speak to him more, but she had to be careful. Too much of a good thing was going to develop into a problem and she truly needed to keep her wits about her.
Later in the evening, Hermione was just pulling the comforter and sheets down on the bed. Her cup of evening tea sat steaming on a saucer on the night stand and her massive book on the Time Turner was ready to be opened and devoured some more. She settled in after leaving the bedroom window cracked just a bit for a little fresh night air and she pulled the heavy book onto her lap.
Several pages had been dog eared, some had been highlighted, but mostly there were small parchments of notes stuck in between the pages from the end of each chapter she finished. Her eyes perused to the bottom of the page, spot checking to see if there was anything she might have missed when she'd first read that page. Something maybe new might pop out at her, possibly something old might remind her, but then as she got to the last quote, the last suggestion, her finger stilled as she underlined each word.
There, in black and white, was an answer to her beating heart. A way for the guilt to subside, an answer to the damage she may have already caused and a line she'd already read eight times as she finished the eighth chapter. All of them ending the same, all of them reminding her of the worst case scenario:
"In the most desperate times, the OBLIVIATE charm works wonders..."