A note from Serade Black: Ah, well, I am now in motherhood and sadly my story is falling behind. My muse has gone off for a bit with this one, but never fear, I shall finish! I want to personally thank those that have left reviews, favorited me and messaged me. Your praise, I'll be honest, helps me keep writing fanficiton goodness! Until then... ~S
Chapter 10
"What Almost Was"
The tinkering atmospheric sounds of the restaurant carried on. Glasses clinked together as toasts were made, small chatter accompanied nearby neighbors and servers flew by delivering hot entrees with a particular flourish one would believe them to be part of a show, rather than a wait staff.
The couple enjoyed each other's company as they savored their last sips of wine over dessert. As they made small talk discussing work, friends and what particularly pleased them about the renovations of their home, Sirius's thoughts strayed to the jewelry box in his pocket. He imagined the piece within the old box that lay amongst the velvet surroundings. A piece that represented commitment and devotion; a life long obligation to love, cherish, and obey. It was almost like a form of slavery and he didn't think she deserved that sort of sacrament for him. He loved her dearly, he owed her his life, but her happiness meant more to him than anything in the world.
The unconventional pair stood up to vacate the restaurant, noticing the light sweep of whispers and onlookers as they walked by. Being a celebrity, even an ex-convict, didn't always have its fit for glamour and it was important that Sirius escort Hermione out, before anyone asked him for an autograph. Although used to the attention, he didn't want to be harassed that evening and without a second thought, took his witch's hand protectively.
The narrow street of Diagon Alley was quiet, without many out and about. The few stragglers walked along the cobblestone as they picked up last minute packages from closing stores or continued on to the Leaky Cauldron for an after meal pint. They passed by the quidditch shop and in the window was the newest model of the Firebolt, official broom of the National Quidditch League. Also in the window of the closed shop was a framed portrait of Viktor Krum grimacing at the viewer, his arms folded across his chest with a bored and angry look displayed over his face. He was older now, more mature and had filled out from the boy he was when Hermione knew him.
"Was he good to you?" Sirius asked, noticing how she grinned ever so slightly at the portrait in the window.
"I was fourteen. He was nice to me. What could I compare it to?" she said, as if what he was asking was absurd.
"Still, I read the papers-"
"The papers often lie!" she was quick to cut off, offering him a slight glance.
"I'm just asking, that's all," he said in an innocent tone. "I read Harry's letters about you two as well, so I just thought I'd check."
"He was friendly. I learned a lot from him, in fact," she amended as they turned to finish their walk towards the Leaky Cauldron.
"First love?"
"I guess you could say all that," she began. "I mean, I was fourteen. My idea of love now is much different than what it was back then."
"Right," he nodded, approaching the brick wall to cross over into the pub alleyway. He gave her hand an extra squeeze as he Apparated them to Saint James's Park in order to continue their stroll.
Appreciating the solitude and the intimate moments between them, Hermione hugged his arm and rested her head against his shoulder. Imagining them to be away in a dream-like world like two star-crossed lovers finally coming together, Hermione closed her eyes as they walked in tandem. Feeling the warmth settled in the lower regions of her heart, she felt full. Like the aura that surrounded them was thick like fog, acting like a magical fortress no one could knock down.
With the hour so late, they passed by a few slumbering ducks that ruffled their feathers as the inconsiderate humans interrupted their sleep, but then they hid their heads and swiftly returned to sleep.
The moon was bright overhead and the sky was clear enough to see some sneaking stars against the midnight. Sirius steered them towards a bench that faced the pond, resting his arm behind Hermione's shoulders as she leaned against the length of his body. Her hand rested on his leg as she turned her body towards his.
Upon the pond before them, a couple of ducks passed as if they were on night patrol. They quietly moved along, barely breaking a wake in the water and continued on as if not noticing late night company. Neighborhood sounds could be heard in the distance, but only because they were in a city just calming down for the night. Somewhere along the park fence, late night pub dwellers sung way off key.
Hermione sighed, taking in the scent of his cologne and welcoming the sounds of tranquility around them. With a slight smile over her lips, she was content and happy to be where she was at that very moment with him. "This was a nice night," she said quietly glancing up at the stars. "Thank you for going to all this trouble."
"Wasn't any trouble, love. I just thought we needed a nice night out where I could have you all to myself."
"You do have me all to yourself, Sirius," she confirmed, looking into the eyes of her handsome older wizard. There was no doubt in her voice as she spoke the truth.
Sirius sighed slightly and curled a lock of her hair between his fingers, "I just meant that you've been so preoccupied at work." He pressed a kiss to her temple. "I feel I barely get to see you."
"Well, that is true," she said, turning away to watch another set of ducks on patrol glide across the water without a sound, "I am swamped at work, but at least I have you to come home to."
Her words comforted him and he took the liberty of admiring her in the moonlight; like something of a dream to him. A dream he wished for many years, never believing she would ever return to a man that had been holed up in a dingy prison to reach insanity. Having her back in his life was more than he could ask and all he wanted, but all he wanted was for her to smile and be happy.
The sound of her voice blessed his ears as she nearly whispered, "You're something I never want to miss out on."
Meeting her intense gaze, he kissed her forbidden lips with the vow to never look back. The moment was there, if he was looking for one. The silence around them, save for the sounds of nature tucking in for the night, gave him the opportune time to...
The seconds ticked away, feeling like eternity had stolen their innocence, but they remained alone together on the bench in the park. Lewd thoughts of public copulation crossed the wizard's mind, but dignity saved him as he protected her virtue.
"I love you," she whispered as her fingers brushed the locks out of his sightline, savoring him like he was her own private doll.
His emotions were beginning to get the best of him, so he said nothing. He didn't need to. He merely held her tight and let her exist in his world.
0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0
The shadows let in from the outside street light danced on the ceiling of the master bedroom of number twenty-four. The aging house creaked as it settled on its foundation and the portraits downstairs had long since fallen asleep in their frames with the promise of another day.
Sirius watched the shadows dance as the light crept in from the windows of the room, taking in account that their shapes might help guide him on his decision making path. Though it made no difference, his thoughts reflected on his missed proposal of the night, only having it end with a rather serene episode there in the park.
There was no reason why he needed anything more from the angelic creature that slumbered next to him, for having her devotion was almost a burden in itself. As he glanced over, he marveled at the way her rose-colored lips looked so delicious and how her wavy locks spilled over the pillows like a majestic princess. Her soft skin called to him as he held back the urge to run a hand down her cheek. She slept peacefully like an angel in his dreams he so longed for.
He was so in love with her.
0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0
In the morning, Hermione awoke in a lonely bed with the sheets next to her abandoned and cold. Left in the bathroom was a note from Sirius telling her that he had stepped out to meet Harry early that morning and would return before noon.
Missing the morning coupling, Hermione went about her routine and dressed to go off to the shop for a few items she needed for dinner that evening. She vowed not to take long and hoped that she return before Sirius did, even knowing that trips to see Harry were never short for Sirius.
Down the friendly street that Hermione had called home for a few months, she hitched her bag further on her shoulder. Walking at a brisk pace, she glanced down at her footsteps, careful not to step on any cracks in the sidewalk. Humming a light tune to herself, her mind was in a good place. She had enjoyed her prior evening and though her work load was high these days, she would always find time to stop and smell the roses.
Number twenty-four was easy for her to see now. Mostly hidden from muggles, or anyone for that matter, the house remained well concealed by tamed plants and controlled vines winding their way into the iron gates. With a gentle tap of her wand, the lock released and allowed its younger occupant through the threshold. Parked alongside the house, Sirius's motorcycle awaited its owner like a loyal steed outside a saloon.
Hermione pushed through the front door, dropping her purse on a nearby table. The house was silent, but she knew he was home.
"I'm home! Sirius?" she called through the house. Her voice echoed down the long hallway as she walked, carrying her knapsack like a heavy grocery bag. "There you are, handsome." She rounded the corner and saw him sitting on the couch, the television turned off and looking like he was waiting for something. "I'm starving. I've got things for dinner, but do you want to go down to the pub for a bite?"
Sirius remained on the couch, his eyes glancing to hers, offering her a half friendly smile, hands folding and unfolding in front of him, well distracted by the plan in his mind. With another glance, he watched as she leaned over her knapsack to empty it of items she had purchased to put into the refrigerator and pantry. She danced around with light feet, moving freely as if she were spinning on air. Her gorgeous brown curls bounced around her back as her bangs were cleared from view, tethered by a barrette. Her pretty profile was enough to make his heart pound as he imagined kissing her for the first time when he was her age now.
"Hermione, I need you to sit down here for a minute," he said, standing up and offering her either side of the couch. He swallowed nervously.
"Alright, but why?" she asked as she closed the refrigerator door and walked around the counter that separated them. "What's wrong, Sirius?"
Sirius did not sit down on the couch with her like he normally would. He would usually take any and every opportunity to touch her skin, kiss her cheek, or pet her hair if he was close enough, but this time as he stood before her, he kept clear of his normal habits.
"Sirius?" she asked again, with a slight tilt of her head.
"Hermione," he began; his feet solid on the ground and not pacing like he had expected, "I love you."
She immediately sucked in her breath, her heart skipping at least three beats before she figured out what he was about to do. It came out of nowhere, but all the signs were there: fidgeting slightly, fingers touching his pockets from time to time, avoiding eye contact. Rather than meeting her eyes, he looked all around her. His voice sounded weak and unconfident. She was elated.
"Me too," she said quietly, winking flirty for him like the way he always did for her. She was going to do anything to make this easy for him; her answer already prepared, of course.
"Please, just let me talk and then you can say whatever you want."
She nodded obediently and folded her hands in her lap perfectly. With a light shrug to throw her hair behind her shoulder, she poised herself to answer him.
With a deep breath, he began, "I've done some thinking." His insides were turning, he was generally nauseous, but he had to go through with this, no matter what she said, "and I've come to the conclusion we..."
"Yes?" she asked; her eyes wide and bright.
"-are not right."
Frozen and not breathing, Hermione barked, "What?"
He had pulled the band-aid. "It's not healthy, what we're doing. It's taken some time to realize and I knew that eventually we might come to this, but it's clear that I cannot do what you want me to."
"Sirius-"
"You can have the house. I'm going away for awhile. A long while, if I can."
"Sirius, stop-" she stood abruptly.
"You need a life that I cannot give to you, Hermione. I want you to have everything."
"I don't want anything, if I can't have you!" Her voice was firm, louder and trying to meet his eye line. She felt as if someone had dumped a bucket of ice water down her back; her stomach was tying itself in knots and any minute she felt as if she would retch. "Stop staying such things, right now!"
"It's true, love," he quickly quipped. It pained him to move out of reach as she outstretched her arms towards him. As if what he was doing wasn't hard enough, he felt a swift pang in his heart to see the pain in her eyes once he resisted her touch.
"Sirius?" she asked again, letting out a nervous laugh as if hoping that all this pretending was just something of a cruel joke.
The sound of her quiet voice nearly cracking as she practically whispered his name made him close his eyes tight and try to refrain from showing any kind of emotion towards her. He had to be strong, like a rock wall unable to be torn down. He was doing this for her sake, but she kept saying his name as if asking a question, as if asking if all of this wasn't real.
"Please," he begged quietly with a hitch in his throat. "Just let me do this, for you."
The cut went deeper as he separated himself from the one thing that kept him going all through his incarceration. His beacon, his shining star, his hope. He was severing his intimate ties with her, wishing her a better life than what she would have had with him.
"What," she started to ask, desperately trying to hold back her intended volume. "What is it exactly that you're doing for me, Sirius? Leaving me? After all we've been through? After all we've said to each other?" She stood strong, stiff, biting her lip between breaths to muster the courage to speak clearly without losing herself, but she still sounded desperate and overwhelmed.
"I'm sorry," he whispered, looking down at the carpet between them. He felt a coward deep inside, but he knew what he was doing was to be the bravest decision he could make in his fragile life.
"I thought you'd never let me go, Sirius. I thought-"
"Things change, love," he cut her off, raising his voice from a whisper to more of a curt tone. "I can't give you what you want, but...but, Charlie can."
"CHARLIE?" she asked excited and breathless. Her voice was strained, nearly hoarse from speaking so quickly. "Did you fall off your motorbike? I don't want, Charlie! I want you, all of you, whatever you can give me. If you don't want to get married, fine! We will stay the way we are and I'll be happy. If you don't want children...then I'll have to accept that and love on Harry and Ron's children. Just don't do this."
After a brief moment to allow her words to sink in, he read the honesty in her eyes. Managing a forced side smirk, he reached out to cradle her chin in his hand, "Sweetheart, you're lying." He was almost immediately calm for her, as if touching her chin would sate him momentarily until he could manage to walk out the front door. "I know what you really want and everything you just mentioned...is the answer."
"I don't want, Charlie," she said quietly, her lips practically quivering. His touch on her skin was heaven.
"Charlie can give you a better life. A life with children, with a career, with...time."
"I can't believe you're saying this. You waited for me all those years, you were there when I came back, you said I was your reason for life and now you're just leaving? What's going on?"
Hearing the truth did not make the situation any easier, for everything she said was the absolute truth. He did wait for her to grow up and then, only then, did he have to see if she would still want him. She did and as he watched her carry the strength from within not to fall to pieces in his hand, he knew she still did. Only now, reality had set in and he couldn't anchor her to him, no matter how much it pained him to let his beloved, the love of his life, go.
As their eyes met, much like they did the day she returned from the past, he considered briefly going back on his word and being as selfish as one could. But, as he pulled away his hand, he turned away from her and said under his breath, "It has to be like this."
Hermione had reached her breaking point and the tears cascaded down her cheeks slowly at first, but then rushing like a final brick in a dam giving way. Realizing that he was literally drifting away from her and making his way to the hallway and towards the door, she followed closely behind him, mustering up a loud enough voice for him to hear her.
Shaking her head and letting her mane go wild, she said, "No it doesn't, Sirius! Please! Where are you going?" Her shoes were loud on the creaking wood floor, baring the anger of the desperate footsteps. "Where can I find you? What if I need you?"
Shrugging on his jacket and forbidding himself to look at her, he replied, "Harry will always know where I am. He will contact me for his wedding. But, you won't need to find me, Hermione."
Her lower lip quivered again, watching the love of her life fix his collar and preparing to cast her off as if she were a mistake. Her insides were slowly churning into a burning fire, soaking up the nausea that barely kept her sane. The emotions were beginning to overwhelm her; her heart felt heavy like someone had manipulated it to force itself down further into the pit of her stomach.
With her tears a constant stream, she balled her fists in anger, "Sirius, I will always need to find you. There's no reason for this." Then, as if she were scolding a child, she barked, "This is selfish, immature, irresponsible and just plain unnecessary. What did I do-"
Finally, he had met his end and turned around on her, stopping her from finishing her question. He pulled her face to his; absorbing her aura one last time with a deep, strong kiss. His lips against hers elicited a fire from within that he knew was dangerous to play with at that moment. It was almost cruel. He was letting her go, he was saying good-bye, but he wasn't going to let her believe that she was the reason for this.
He tasted her sweet lips for the last time, savoring their softness and sultry bite as he nipped her delicately, but forcefully. The passion in his loins protested the tearing separation as he practically ripped her away from him, holding her forehead to his and panting softly as if it were their dying moment together.
"You did nothing, my love," he said breathless and painfully. Opening his eyes to meet hers, he continued, "You've never done anything to not make me feel worthy. I am not selfish. Quite the opposite, because I'm leaving for your own good. I want you to have a life with someone that is good for all the things you hold dear to your heart. Someone more...like you."
Hermione licked her lips of his taste, squeezing her eyes shut, so as to clear the tears, "You mean someone more my age." His true words finally rang clear to explain his actions.
Sirius swallowed hard as she nailed it directly on the head. The very words he was afraid to speak fell from her lips as if she were whispering footnotes. He sniffed and nodded slightly, feeling the pit of his stomach fill with guilt. "Yes, love," he began calmly, "someone more your age that has more time to offer you. You don't need to marry a man who is in his forties."
"You're wrong," she sobbed, shaking her head just slightly, reaching up to run her fingers through a stray curl that hung along the side of his face, "you're only thirty-nine. The Veil froze your years."
With a subtle side smirk he gave her a single nod, pulling away from her, "I know, but that still doesn't make it right."
Reaching for his arm, she pleaded, "I don't care, Sirius. I've never cared."
For a second, he thought about retracting everything based on her one sentence, but his mind was forced to follow through. This was about her, not him. This was about her being let go, to be free and to find someone closer to her own age that could grow with her, not against her. Though his life blood pumped through his veins only for her, he still could not keep her. It wasn't about not wanting to get married or to have children, it's just that a drastic change like that might throw them off-balance and break up their serene life they kept of long night talks, wine and love-making on the kitchen floor whenever they felt like it. She made him young again, careless and free, as long as it was with her. His life was almost to the middle and hers was only just starting.
"Sirius, you're breaking my heart," she said quietly to herself, but enough for him to hear.
"You'll mend fine. I, on the other hand, will not."
She snapped her head up, "Then why-"
"Don't," he hushed, shaking his head. "Just don't say anything." She looked up at him stunned, hurt and holding her emotions together as much as she could. No matter what he said, no matter how he thought of her, he still thought she was the prettiest thing he'd ever seen and his heart ached for her. "Good-bye, Hermione," he said with a sad voice. He leaned closer and kissed her forehead, letting his cheek fall against her as he closed his eyes in mental pain.
Sirius let himself out of the house, shutting the heavy door behind him, leaving her standing in the foyer without another word. His motorbike could be heard revving up outside and with a loud kick of the stand it was propped up on, the contraption murmured its departure and the sound of the engine graduated to a faint lull in the distance.
Still standing like a statue, Hermione reached out to the open space before her, not accepting that his departure was real. The air in front of her felt cool and empty, motionless and stagnant. The heaviness of her heart started to weigh down on her and as she searched blindly with an outstretched hand, knowing that he wasn't there and making contact with the wooden door he stepped out of.
Her heart was broken and the faint scent of his cologne lingered all around her, drilling into her his hastened departure. Like a switch had turned on inside of her chest, her face crinkled with sorrow allowing the rest of her to follow suit with the pain that flushed throughout. It twisted in small knots, making her head fuzzy and unbalanced. Falling against the door with a dull thud, she nearly let her body slide down to the floor in a broken heap, before mustering up some energy to challenge the stairs.
One by one, she carried herself upwards, needing to lie down and pray that the nightmare had all happened while she was asleep and with a proper rousing, she would awaken to Sirius still sleeping beside her. She prayed to the Gods that she would wake up, but in order to wake up, she had to make it to her bedroom. One step after the other, she slowly worked herself up and down the hallway to her bedroom.
As she passed over the threshold, his scent filled her senses and she was hit with a wave of memories that weakened her further. Holding onto the wall for support, believing that all the strength in her body had drained below the ability to function, she made her way over to the bed to sit on the end. She sat in her own silence, her tears streaming down her cheeks with hiccups occasionally surfacing. She felt beaten and worn; her heart lost. Everything in her world was surreal.
Across from where she sat was the vanity mirror and looking back at her was the reflection of someone drained and abandoned; someone whose entire world was just closed in on. Allowing herself a healthy lonely sob, her eyes fell on a small box that lay on her vanity next to her personal jewelry box. It was something she didn't recognize and therefore, believed that it didn't belong to her. It was a small box, like a ring box. Sad, but curious, she slowly stood and took the few steps to her vanity table walking with the life of a zombie.
The box was simple, but very detailed. She furrowed her brow as she picked it up in her hands. Very carefully, she unlatched its clasp and opened it to see its contents. There before her was a beautiful antique engagement ring.
Sirius was going to ask her to marry him.