I Want the Fire Back
Summary: Hermione is obsolete – the War is over, Harry and Ron are busy, and she the mere Charms teacher at Hogwarts. When a presumably dead man comes back better than ever, she suddenly means everything... to him. SiHr
Rating: R for language, themes, sex, and whatever else may come out of my twisted little mind.
Disclaimer: It's not me who owns these characters or any plots associated with the Harry Potter books.
Chapter 11: Pretty Little Pills
Hermione Granger got very little sleep the previous night - mainly because of her git of a boyfriend. She was beyond angry about last night's occurrences. He certainly had gotten back at her – and done a hell of a good job of it. Another reason she had so little sleep, was because she was struggling to come up with her own retaliation.
And at two in the morning, it struck her – and she owled Harry, hoping to God that he still had those prank pills she had given him years ago.
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It was breakfast time in the Great Hall, and students were milling about lazily, glad it was Friday, but also dreading the fact that the day of the week would make classes seem to drag out much longer.
Sirius and Hermione sat next to each other at the staff table as they did every morning, but neither said anything, and each had their own reasons why. Sirius knew that if he opened his mouth it would result in him gloating and Hermione getting angrier, and Hermione stayed tacit because she was afraid she would sound too giddy and cause suspicion to arise. Not that Sirius was not already horribly suspicious of her actions that morning – he had pulled way too many pranks in his life not to know to be cautious around that person afterwards.
Unfortunately for the exhaustingly attractive DADA substitute, Hermione had already performed the task of her revenge. Early that morning she received Harry's owl accompanied by the requested pills, and she traveled down to kitchens during the house elves breakfast preparation time.
Most of the elves still gave her dirty looks when she wasn't noticing (S.P.E.W. was still a lingering nightmare to most of them, and those who weren't there during S.P.E.W. days heard about it from others) but they still dutifully did what she asked of them.
She hastily explained that no matter what, the pills were to be placed discretely inside the food directly in front of Sirius Black at the staff table. At first the elves were hesitant, unsure as to whether the pills were safe or not. She quickly explained they were harmless, and knowing that the elves would do no mischief to a member of the teaching staff, lied about what their real purpose was. She told them that the pills were Sirius' medicine that he needed very badly, but would never willingly take due to his stubbornness.
"What a naughty sir, be's that Sirius Black. He needs his medicines!" an abnormally small house elf chided more to herself than Hermione as she took the three pills from the teacher and ran over to where the food was being cooked. Hermione felt slightly guilty for lying to the poor creature, but decided it was worth it.
Within moments she had lost track of where the Viagra had been placed and in what pile of food, and hoped to God that they ended up where they needed to be.
Now all she could do was wait as she sat stiffly at the breakfast table, half listening to Sirius and Dumbledore's conversation about the upcoming quidditch match of Gryffindor verses Slytherin. Sirius kept shooting her glances out of the corner of his eye, obviously waiting for her to make her move. She grinned at this, extremely delighted with his apprehensiveness. Not many could strike fear into the heart of the infamously sexy Marauder.
Hermione thought shamedly for a moment that she had quite the advantage when it came to her distributed Viagra, considering Sirius never would have heard of it because he was only a full-blooded wizard and she was well-accustomed to both muggle and wizarding worlds.
Ah, well, serves him right.
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Sirius was perplexed – Hermione had done nothing to him at breakfast – not shown some horrid picture of him dancing around in a leotard (not that he ever did that… ever) to the whole hall, or any other beastly act of revenge.
To say it in the least – he was scared shitless. Her quietness proved to him that she had an idea, a plan of some sort, and knowing her immense quantity of cleverness he was unsure whether or not he would ever want to be seen in public again after her act was committed.
Oh, well, she still has lunch… he thought idly as he stood up from his desk and began lecturing his seventh year Slytherins and Ravenclaws about vampires.
And the lecture was going fairly well – Sirius was pacing the front of the room and up and down the aisle in between the desks, speaking of the ways you could detect a vampire, and students were actually participating in the discussion – until a small ripple of laughter broke out in the Slytherin side of the room. Whispers sprung up from the laughter, and it spread like wildfire throughout the class as students took notice of the comic relief their professor was unknowingly providing them with.
Constanza Rashen, a chubby Ravenclaw, was very prominently pointing at Sirius' crotch area, causing him to look down and finally realize what was so damn amusing. Throughout the discussion he had been so caught up in his words and direction of thought that he hadn't noticed the tremendously noticeable erection he had.
Bloody hell, Granger! He thought in astonishment and anger. He had watched her so carefully, though…
Trying to recover his currently very scant esteem with his class, Sirius quickly pulled his unopened black robe around himself and turned back towards his desk in a pitiful effort to look subtle.
This act only caused the students to laugh even more heartily, making the professor blush greatly. Never in his life had he been so humiliated – at least before when his friends embarrassed him, it was around his own peers, but he was an adult now, and these were kids – they would have a fricken field day with this. Days of gossip would erupt from this, hours of giggling late at night in the girls' dormitories and wistful thoughts about who was the cause of the sudden arousement.
He seated himself at his desk, hands still clutching his robes at his waist, face beet red. Gingerly picking up his wand and trying to reverse his little – er, big – problem, Sirius discovered that it was not a hex known to him that was rendering him horribly horny at the moment – it was something else.
Finally admitting to himself that Hermione had damaged his pride horrendously in a way he never thought she would manage, Sirius let his head fall face-first onto the polished surface of Moony's desk and pondered the idea of beating off underneath its surface…
Fuck.
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Hermione, on the other hand, was sitting in a class full of fifth years, wondering if the medication had made it to Sirius and had its desired effect. Little did she know, that in her next class period, that desired effect would be all the students would be so avidly talking about.
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After dinner, Hermione practically sprinted from the Great Hall to avoid Sirius' wrath. Obviously she had heard the news - and on top of that seen it as Sirius sat down seething next to her... at lunch and dinner. She knew that he would be so utterly embarrassed that he would stop at no length to avenge his erection problem… or, lack thereof.
She finally reached her portrait entrance, and as she began the first syllable of the password, heard the distinct slapping of feet hitting the stone floor mere feet down the hall.
Out of excitement and fear, Hermione stopped mid-password to screech "Dammit!", giving the runner the chance to glimpse the brunette barely stumble into the doorway before slamming it closed.
"Dammit!" Sirius echoed, growling in frustration. He spoke the password to the portrait of the dryads playing mirthfully amongst one another, and the door swung open to reveal Hermione's quarters. She was nowhere in sight.
Prepared for any ambush, Sirius entered the room cautiously. He took a few steps inside until deciding it would be easier to sneak around as Padfoot. In an instant the man's beautiful locks of ebony hair transformed into matching fur, and he became the grim that had so frightened his godson in his third year.
Sniffing her out quietly, he discovered that she was perched nervously behind her bathroom door.
And he decided to wait.
Situating himself on the couch in the living room that faced away from her bedroom, he became comfortable and waited for any sounds of her stirring.
I could have sworn I heard the door open, Hermione thought as she paced her bedroom. But she had not heard any noises within her quarters, and therefore decided it was safe. Oh, didn't she realize that she was dealing with the Sirius Black here?
Hermione stepped out from her bedroom, clad in her white tank top and comfortable black velvet sweats. Hey, she had gotten bored just sitting in her room waiting for Sirius to barge in at any moment – and besides, if he were to barge in, why wouldn't she want to be in the act of undressing?
Picking up a book from a shelf on her way to the couch, Hermione was suddenly tossed quite undramtically onto her destination ahead of time.
She now lay sprawled over the cushions, book forgotten on the floor a few feet away, and her angry boyfriend glowering above her.
"You gave me this problem – you make it go away," Sirius spoke, motioning slightly and very unnecessarily to his crotch. This caused Hermione to burst out laughing, causing him to glower even more so.
"You couldn't figure out how to get rid of it?" she sputtered in disbelief.
He pouted, "I tried all the spells I know…"
"I didn't use a spell, Sirius – it was a muggle pill. And you get rid of it like you would a normal one…" Hermione giggled at the look on his face.
"Why in God's name do you people have pills for this sort of thing?" he asked, aghast, both eyebrows raised.
Hermione shrugged, "For the old people." She sat up straighter in her position on the overly fluffy couch, only to gain more attention than she originally bargained for.
Deciding to act on her words of fixing the issue at hand, Sirius pounced on Hermione's form, kissing her deeply before pulling away. "So we're at a truce, then?" she asked, slightly breathlessly, staring at the heated look on Sirius' face.
"We're going to get rid of my male organ of copulation problem…" She laughed at his response as he ground his lower body to hers, growling possessively. With a small smirk of pride, Sirius spoke again.
"Hermione, you would have made a great Marauder."
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Dark eyebrows perfect for raising individually in amusement. High cheekbones on which atramentous eyelashes laid in rest. Slight dimples that showed in every experienced instance of joy. Prolific lips ideal for the plentiful smirks they created. Stylish sable hair splayed across a scarlet pillow. Light stubble adorning a stubborn jaw.
All of this Hermione stared at in wonder as she sketched it wordlessly. His beauty had finally brought her to the point of needing to express her admiration of it on paper.
Even in sleep Sirius had not been able to manage a façade of innocence. No, not at all. In sleep is when your true self is exposed – and Sirius was anything but innocent. The way a small arrogant smile graced his mouth was an apparent illustration of his lack of purity.
Her pencil scratched at the paper in a small whisper, thankfully not waking the sleeping beauty in next to her. Innocent, he may look not – but peaceful, he did.
She winced as he shifted in sleep a few moments later, his face contorting into a yawn. Quickly opening the drawer next to her bed (yes, they had moved it to the bedroom after a while) Hermione shoved the parchment and pencil inside and closed it just in time for Sirius to fully waken.
"Whatya doin' slammin' drawers and such?" he mumbled, rubbing a hand to his face and stifling another onset of yawn-age.
Briefly studying the way the muscles in his arm contracted in use, Hermione replied. "Um… looking for something."
These words seemed to bring him from his sleep entitled stupor, and Sirius' eyes shot open. "What time is it?" He looked past her to the alarm clock and cussed fluently as he stumbled from the bed, realizing his entire left leg was asleep.
Hiding her laughter at his utterly idiotic appearance, Hermione questioned his actions.
"I have to meet Harry at eleven – we're going to London," the raven-haired god replied as he stumbled ineptly around the room naked, looking for his boxers.
Slightly put out by this revelation, Hermione uttered a small "Oh" and averted her eyes downwards.
Sirius, not being one to be a complete oblivious jackass, noticed her attitude change. "I'll be back in time for the match today, love."
Her mood lightened at this, but her curiosity was now raging. She knew that if Sirius had wanted to tell her just what it was he had planned that day that he would have informed her, so she decided not to press a matter that would result in no valuable response.
Growling frustratedly, Sirius stood in the middle of the bedroom, hands on his bare hips and his foot tapping impatiently.
"'Mione, do you have a pair of boxers I could borrow?"
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A/N: Ok, review please! I love you guys, keep up the great work! I promise the next chapter will be MUCH longer. It'll include Siri-boy's reason for venturing into big bad London, and Hermione's reaction to his reason for visiting London. Okay? Whoooo.