It had taken a while for Ginny's flat to settle down from the news that Hermione had returned. Arthur was busying himself with a ballpoint pen that had made the trip with Hermione, completely enthralled at how 'ingenious those crafty Muggles are.' George and Bill flooed Charlie and Percy informing them of what was going on and then settled themselves into the den along with Ginny, Harry, Sirius, Ron, Arthur and Molly.
Molly had charmed away most of the pain of Hermione's attack on Sirius. However, she left the swelling to be alleviated via a conjured bag of frozen peas, instead of instantaneously charming away his discomfort. She was certain that Hermione's assault was not unjustly provoked and not fully healing him was her little way of sticking her allegiance with Hermione side of the battle.
After his wounds were "seen to," rapidly Molly began to ask questions: "When did she get here? Where has she been? What has she been doing these last couple of years? Where did she go? Why did she punch Sirius? Why didn't she come by to see us? Why didn't you tell us she was here? Why wouldn't she want to see me?" The questions were making the throbbing of Sirius' face seem meek compared to the newly acquired stabbing of his brain.
Sirius unbuttoned the collar of his purple dress shirt and rubbed the spot just above his collarbone. This always seemed to calm him when he was close to losing his mind. He closed his eyes and took long, deep breaths, letting his head fall back onto the cushion of the chair. His long, black locks draped over the same arm of the chair that his head rested on, while his brown, corduroy covered legs draped over the opposite arm. He picked up the cold bag of peas and plopped them down on his face. He tried to close his mind to the chaotic slew of words that were flying around him, while Ginny was trying to answer her mother's questions as quickly as she could, and was obviously getting peeved with the whole situation.
To her mother's tirade of questions, Ginny simultaneously answered, "Only a couple days ago, mum. She's not been in England and you knew that she left. She's been working in the Muggle world, mum. It's not my place to tell you where she has been, you know that. It's not my place to tell you what happened here tonight, Hermione was just upset and I am sure she is regretting letting things get out of hand. I don't know, mum. I can't tell you, mum. That's not true, mum, she does want to see you, she wants to see everyone, and she just wanted to settle in first."
Sirius smiled. Ginny's voice was betraying her agitation. She was trying so desperately to hide from her mother. It seemed the stream of a million questions that Molly was spewing at her would never end. He snorted to himself, Oh Molly, why do you even bother? You've asked dozens of questions already, and have gotten no real information.
Arthur was sitting across the room on the transfigured chesterfield. It had been folded up and returned to its original state for the afternoon, hiding the blankets and pillows underneath the cushions. Placing the Muggle pen down on the end table next to him, Arthur smiled and asked what seemed to be question of merely interest, and not information. "What on earth do you call that thing that her clothes are in? It's the oddest trunk I have ever seen!" he asked with a small chuckle, reaching over to run the zipper back and forth playfully.
Molly rolled her eyes at her husband and was about to scold him for his silliness when Ginny perked up and cleared her throat. "It's a suitcase, dad. Same thing as a Muggle trunk, except you are limited to the amount of items you can carry in it before it will no longer close. It's rather difficult to place a bottomless charm on it, as it doesn't seal tightly enough," she replied, pointing to the zipper, "See, the zipper doesn't seal it quite well enough for the charm to stay inside the compartment without seeping out and becoming useless. It would likely explode under the pressure."
Arthur beamed at his daughter's knowledge of Muggle storage. He was always proud of her, but some days he found that thought seeped up more than other days. This was one of them. Curiosity getting the better of him, he asked his next question. "Goodness, that's fascinating! Nevertheless, why wouldn't she just use a magical trunk? Or shrink her belongings? Seems a waste to travel with only a select few pieces of your belongings…," he continued, still playing with the zipper joyfully.
Ginny's brow furrowed in thought. Should I tell them? She drummed her fingertips together and looked around the room at the expecting faces of her family. Harry reached over, took her hand, and gave it a gentle squeeze, sensing her troubles. Even with his eyes closed, Sirius could feel the tension in the room. He pulled himself up in his chair slightly so he could observe what was being said, allowing the bag of peas to drop into his lap. He eyed Ginny and waited for her response.
"Well, dad, a magical trunk would do her no good as it is difficult to travel with without using charms…" she trailed off. She had hoped that would be a good enough answer for them, but the Weasleys were not easily fooled. They kept their eyes on Ginny, waiting for her to finish her thoughts.
Ginny sighed and squeezed Harry's hand. "Hermione lives as a Muggle now. She doesn't use magic."
A few select occupants of the den gasped and murmured to themselves as to why anyone would willingly give up using their magical abilities, while others just looked confused, as if what Ginny had said just didn't make any sense.
Molly piped up first. "Why on earth wouldn't she use magic? How has she been getting on? How does she manage?" she sputtered out.
Ginny couldn't help but giggle at her mothers concern. "Mum, Hermione is a Muggle born. The first 11 years of her life, she lived without magic. She lives in a Muggle home, with Muggle appliances, drives a Muggle car, and has a Muggle job. It's a full time job being a Muggle, I know, I've seen the way she lives. She does her own laundry, cooks her own food by hand, washes all her own dishes by hand and cleans by hand. It's exhausting watching her go at it. But she likes it, so I've never said anything. Well, I've never said anything lately. She has a good life, a good job, a nice little home in a nice little village. She's quite capable of taking care of herself."
Bill decided to get in on the action. "Yes, that's wonderful, but you really mean to tell us that she uses NO magic? None at all?" he asked, leaning forward in interest.
"She hasn't picked up her wand in years. Not sure she even has one anymore, to be honest," she replied looking slightly confused at her own answer. Did she still have a wand? Surely, she would never rid herself of it. "I've seen her do some wandless charms, but the instances are so few and far between that I don't think it even registers with her magical signature," she finished, dropping back into her chair.
Sirius hadn't taken his eyes off Ginny the entire time she spoke. She doesn't use her wand anymore… The wandless charms are so simple and so rare that they don't register with her signature…
Sirius kicked his feet back over the side of the arm and let them hit the floor with a soft 'thud.' He tapped his right foot a couple times and drummed his fingers on his knees in agitation. Something about this was very unsettling, it wasn't right. There was more to the story, but they weren't going to get the answers from Ginny. Sirius knew what he felt earlier when Hermione became enraged.
Her uncontrolled anger turned into an unstable magical energy…
Sirius rubbed a hand over his mouth as he thought about the situation. He had pissed her off. Well, no, that isn't entirely true. Yes, she was angry, but it was more than that. He hadn't thought through his words that he spoke in the heat of the argument. He just attributed her reactions to the nature of woman. First, she was angry that people would look at her and see a virgin, and then as soon as he said that it was obvious she wasn't, she lost control.
The voices of the Weasleys continued to battle in the den. Molly had returned to what seemed to be a rehearsed list of questions, which in turn infuriated Ginny. Knowing he would not be missed, Sirius took this opportunity to slip from the den, grabbing his navy blue, crushed velvet pea coat along the way and apparating into Diagon Alley.
He threw the jacket over his shoulders and quickly did up the buttons. Pulling a handkerchief out of his pocket, he transfigured it into a red scarf, and wrapped it around his shoulders. Stuffing his hands into his pockets, he began to wander the streets, continuing the stream of thought that was interrupted by the gaggle of Weasleys.
Hermione was always known to be a rather rational girl, emotional, but still rational. Tonight, she seemed really to freak out. He searched his recent memory of the little witch to see if he could piece together a small history that would lead to her crazed reaction.
"He's my world," she replied, "He's all I have." Despite her beautiful words, the sadness that lingered behind them showed in her eyes.
"Like I said, no one knows about Xander. There are still some unresolved … issues concerning him," she continued.
"When everyone finds out about my boy, they will want to know who the father is. I'm not sure I can tell them. The father doesn't even know about…" She reached up and wiped the single tear that escaped her sad eyes.
He knew that very few circumstances that would cause that look to appear on the face of such a brave and intelligent witch. With that lingering thought, Sirius sniffled in the cold autumn air. The Alley was nearly deserted at this time of night, with only the random drunk couple stumbling out of the Leaky Cauldron in a fit of giggles, to distract him. He came upon Ollivander's shop, and reached out to run his lean fingers along the cold dark wood. She hasn't picked up her wand in years. He knew she was in the final battle, so obviously she had used her wand there. According to Harry, the final battle with Voldemort happened in the spring of 1998. Hermione said that Remus never knew she was pregnant, and Remus died in the final battle, so she must have gotten pregnant just around that time.
Sirius pulled his hands out of his pockets and clasped them together. He blew some warm air into them, and rubbed them vigorously together. It's 2001 now, so that meant little Xander would be around 2 ½ if he guessed correctly. The Battle was in late spring, so she would have given birth at the end of the year, or the beginning of the next, right? So let's just assume 1999. That's 2 years, and this year is dying down, so lets say 2 ½. Yes. That sounds about right. If no one knew about the baby, that means she would have moved away soon after the final battle, otherwise people would have noticed her obvious pregnancy. So if that's about the time she moved to a Muggle community, than it's likely that she locked her wand away then, to adjust to the Muggle lifestyle.
So, if she hasn't used magic in about 3 years, that could explain the head-pounding energy that filled the room when she became angry. She has no outlet for her magic. Surely, she must know that refraining from magic is extremely unhealthy for her, right? In fact, it's downright dangerous. Thinking back to Azkaban, Sirius could distinctly remember hearing the screams of witches and wizards as their own magic attacked them to get out. It was enough to drive a fellow inmate mad; heck, sometimes it was enough to kill the poor sap. Sirius had been lucky in one sense; growing up in a family of dark wizards, he was taught how to do some minor wandless magic. Some days he would sit in his cell holding a small pebble in his hands, transfiguring it into various small objects such as empty quills, vials or chalk. Not only did it pass the time, but also it served as an outlet for his magic. On days that he was particularly angry, he could feel his energy screaming to get out, causing intense migraines and nausea. Nevertheless, he would focus all his thoughts on those small pebbles, desperately clinging to whatever small outlet he could find that would save him from the fate of those horrible screams that echoed into his cell of solitary confinement.
Hermione must have some sort of outlet. Ginny said she could do some minor wandless magic, but even that was sparse and likely wouldn't do much to help her.
Looking up at the sky, Sirius knew it was well beyond dark now. The Weasleys had likely made their way home, and Harry was probably wondering where he had gone to. Sirius hoped he wasn't too worried. He kicked at a small stone on the ground and let out an exasperated sigh. I really fucked things up, didn't I? I know I shouldn't have kissed her, but damn, it felt so good. He snorted to himself. She didn't seem to mind it at the time. It upset her though, because when he came back later on that night to apologize for outing her to Harry and the Weasleys, she obviously thought he was coming back for round two, and was on the verge of a mental breakdown at that point. But anger? If she was angry, she would have stopped him the first time around and decked him instead of waiting for him to insult her.
Did he insult her?
"DAMNIT WOMAN!" Sirius growled, slamming his fist into the wall just to the side of Hermione's face. "I know you aren't a cheap floozy, but it's PRETTY CLEAR you are no virgin!"
Sirius grimaced at the recent memory. Guess I should have thought THAT one through a little better, eh? He leaned up against the stone wall of a newly opened shop and stared out into the stars. The air had dropped to a temperature that allowed him to see his own breath. He exhaled deeply, watched the little puff of breath mist out, meandering through the icy air. A few moments later, another little puff seemed to come out of nowhere. It was heavier, and a grayish blue color. Sirius quirked an eyebrow at it and examined it more carefully as it drifted slowly away. If he hadn't known better, he would have though it was a little cloud in the shape of a … teddy bear? Sirius kicked himself off the wall gently and peered around the corner of the building.
On a dumpster, not 20 feet away sat Hermione. She had one leg curled up underneath her, and the other dangling freely over the side of the dumpster. Her eyes were closed, and she was humming oh so softly to herself. She looked peaceful – happy almost. She drew a cigarette up to her mouth and inhaled deeply. She exhaled a large puff of smoke, which seemed to morph itself into the shape of cat. The cat lingered in the air for a moment, and then seemed to walk over the icy air and curl up as if to go to sleep. The little puff of a cat drifted away from the little witch and right out in front of Sirius. His mouth twitched up in a half-smirk. What a sight this is! He chuckled lightly to himself.
Hermione slowly opened her eyes, and looked straight into the eyes of an amused Sirius Black. She cocked up an eyebrow and spoke, "If you're here to tell me my pimp is looking for me, you can tell him I'm on my break."
Sirius let out a small grunt and walked over to where Hermione was perched. "You know I didn't mean that the way it sounded," he replied.
"Oh really?" she quipped. "Because it sounded like you were calling me the whore of Babylon!" she finished with a snarky laugh.
Sirius rubbed at his temples, carefully selecting his words. "I just meant that it's hard to think of a woman who has had a child as innocent and virginal."
Hermione took another puff of her cigarette and blew the smoke straight up in the air before turning her gaze back to Sirius. She leaned over a little closer to him – anger evident in her flashing green eyes. "Yes, Sirius. I have a child. Thank you for reminding me. However, Harry doesn't know that! I wanted to be the one to explain to him what happened, but you took it upon yourself to throw my personal life around as if it was a pile of rubbish. And the best part? Because Harry doesn't yet know about Xander, he probably thinks we've slept together and I've become one of your sad little sex-groupies!" she snarled.
"Listen to yourself, Hermione!" he growled, grasping at her legs and giving them a shake for good measure, "Why on earth would Harry think we've slept together? I just got out of the bloody hospital this afternoon, and haven't been out of his sight for more than two minutes since! Where would we have found the time?" he finished, taking a step back and running his hands through his hair then over his face, willing himself to calm down.
"Yes, well that's plenty of time for some," she answered, ashing her cigarette over the side of the dumpster.
Sirius couldn't help but grimace. "Ronald?"
Hermione shuddered, "Malfoy."
Sirius covered his face with his hands. "Please, PLEASE tell me you mean Draco."
Hermione laughed. "Of course I mean Draco. Lucius is a gorgeous man, but a little too prissy for my liking," she answered with a small chuckle.
"And Draco is to your liking?" Sirius responded, cocking up an eyebrow and trying to ignore the visual of Lucius and Hermione together.
"Not particularly, just one of those things. I guess we got tired of fighting and decided to take out our frustrations with each other in a more … satisfying manner," she finished.
Sirius' face took a sour turn as he shuddered at the new visual of Hermione with his pompous, skinny little cousin. Sensing the disgust in the handsome older wizard, she let out a raucous laugh. Sirius rolled his eyes at her playfully before stepping up and snatching the last of her cigarette out of her hand.
He held it up in front of him in display. "You shouldn't be smoking. It's not healthy, Sprite." Hermione crossed her arms over her chest in mock offense and Sirius sniggered, taking a long drag from the butt before tossing it onto the frosted ground further down the alley. He exhaled slowly, letting his eyes drift closed before he exclaimed, "Holy fuck! I forgot how fantastic that feels … sweet, beautiful intoxication!"
Hermione giggled and reached into her pocket to retrieve another cigarette. Sirius grinned wolfishly and snatched it out of her hand before she could get it lit.
"Hey now!" she grumbled playfully as she watched him tip the end onto his lips and light it with the flick of his wand. She rolled her eyes at him and pulled another one out of her pack. Bringing it to her lips, she flicked the butane lighter and felt immediately calmed by the sizzle of the tobacco and paper slowly burning. She exhaled slowly and turned her now serious gaze up to meet the wizards in front of her.
Seeing his pained expression, she sighed and looked away, "I think we need to talk."
Sirius looked down at the ground and kicked a small pebble with a nod. "Ok"
Hermione took a deep breath and contemplated her next move. "Why did you kiss me?"
Sirius chuckled softly, leaning back on the stone wall opposite the little witch's dumpster and took a long drag off the cigarette. "I don't know, honestly. It wasn't my intention when I flooed Ginny's flat to ravage you in the kitchen. I … I just … wanted a moment of celebration with you. I knew you wouldn't be coming with me because of … circumstances, but it didn't feel right to start the celebrations without including you in some way. So I just … flooed over when Harry and Ginny left … I was excited … got carried away …" he replied, his thoughts meshing and trailing off at the end.
Hermione seemed to understand where he was coming from. She was still puzzled as to why he would react that way, but she can understand getting caught up in a moment. She had been caught up in a few moments with the resident ferret, but there was always a mutual attraction between the two despite their incessant verbal accusations and hexing. She knew she was attracted to Sirius, but it didn't seem plausible that he would be attracted to her. She shook the thoughts from her head and continued.
"I guess that makes sense," she replied, her mouth twisting up in a lopsided grin. She took another puff from her cigarette and tossed it away, looking back up at him.
"When you came back, why were you apologizing?" she asked, her brow furrowing in apprehension.
Sirius sighed and dropped the cigarette down, stamping it out under his brown boots. "We had a few drinks in us at the pub, and while in a conversation with Ginny I let your nickname slip up and Harry began to question why you were in a recent conversation. I'm the reason that Harry freaked out tonight, I outed you. I'm so sorry, Mione," he sighed, hanging his head in embarrassment.
"My name came up? What were you talking about?" she inquired.
Sirius chuckled softly. "The probability of you hexing my bollocks off if I stepped foot in your flat again anytime soon."
Hermione tossed her head back and giggled vivaciously. The visual that accompanied his words was almost too much to handle. She clutched at her sides, finding it difficult to breathe through her merriment.
Sirius couldn't help but smile as he watched her. His heart warmed at the sound of her laughter. He never meant to hurt the little witch. He was impulsive by nature, and had been accused on many occasions of being overly passionate in his actions. He knew Hermione was no delicate little flower – she proved that tonight by decking him – but she was broken in spirit. He made a private vow to be more careful in his choice of words with her.
Sirius brought a hand up gently to touch the side of his face that was still rather bruised. Hermione saw his hand tremble as it touched his cheek, being careful not to apply any real pressure to the area. She sighed.
"Does it smart?" she asked apprehensively.
"Like a bitch," he replied with a small chuckle, "You sure can pack one hell of a punch there, Sprite."
"I'm sorry. I mean, I'm not sorry for punching you, but I am sorry that I punched you so hard," she added guiltily.
Sirius threw his head back and let out a bark of laughter. "Cheeky witch!" he growled playfully, eyes sparkling with mischief.
Hermione threw him a crooked grin before holding her arms out in front of her and wiggling her fingers. Sirius took the hint and reached out to grasp her hands, pulling her towards him before he shifted and grabbed her waist, slowly lowering her down to meet the ground. She smelled wonderful; like winter smoke and evergreen. He let his hands linger on her waist, taking a moment to reach up and brush a stray lock of hair out of her face, and leaning down to place a gentle kiss on her forehead.
"Forgive me?" he asked. Hermione looked up into his stormy grey eyes. They were honest and filled with regret. Her heart leapt at the thought that he really did feel badly about being so rash, that perhaps he really did appreciate her. Hermione's mouth twisted up into a brilliant smile. She reached up and tucked a lock of hair behind his ear. Sirius sighed inwardly and leaned into her touch, relishing in the feel of her cold little fingers dancing over his skin in such an innocent yet intimate manner.
"Of course," she replied with a small nod.
Sirius beamed at her, taking her cold little hand from his face and holding it protectively in his own. He looped her left arm through his right, and placed his left over hers. She reached her right hand over to grasp his right bicep and they slowly began to walk away from the cold alley, back to Ginny's flat.
A shy smile here, an innocent giggle there, stories of the Marauders and the Golden Trio filled the night air, the sounds of their voices competing only with the scuffle of their feet on the earth. There was still a tension between them, but they brushed it aside as always and shuffled along. Every so often, they would stop so Sirius could gesture wildly with his hands, punctuating whatever mischievous tale he was recounting, only to find their arms and hands linked back up moments later as they continued onward. To a friendly observer, they seemed every bit the part of a couple long in each others loving company, telling stories of their youth and enjoying the private moment's life could afford. They smiled at each other with all the honesty they possessed, and their eyes danced with mutual companionship.
All too soon, they found themselves at Ginny's doorstep. Hermione stepped up onto the first step, which brought her almost up to Sirius' height. She turned to face him, wiping a stubborn strand of hair out of her eyes with her left hand, her right still entwined with Sirius' hand. A moment of easy silence passed between the two.
"I suppose I have no choice but to face Harry and the Weasleys now, right?" she asked, tilting her head to the side slightly. Sirius looked up at the window and could see some Weasley shaped shadows pacing in the room.
"Yes, sorry about that, love. If you want, we can take another turn about the alley to give you some more time to prepare yourself?" he replied, half-hoping she would agree for his own guilty desire to spend more time alone with the witch.
"Better face the mob now, gets it over with," she replied with a sigh. Taking one more glance to the stormy eyes of the gentle wizard before her she reached up her hand and cupped his swollen cheek. Giving him a lopsided smile, communicating silently that things would be ok, she leaned down and planted a ghost of a kiss across his cold lips. She backed away, gently running her thumb across his cheek before she pulled away and grabbed for his hand to lead him inside. Sirius smiled, not even realizing that the pain and swelling had subsided with her mere touch. Hand in hand, they quietly made their way back inside.