Sirius was grumbling and tossed the large pillow off his bed as he slumped. The other night was difficult with tons of silence, not Sirius's favorite. Remus was upset, but not how he thought. The process of the conversation was invasive, Sirius felt like the werewolf stuck his scarred arm up his asshole and yanked out his heart. That was days ago, and they hadn't spoken about it since, especially after what Ginny put in the paper. Friday night was spent with a bottle of some expensive whiskey and a pack of cigarettes.

There was a knock at his door. "Sirius, Remus went out with Teddy, and I'm here. I was wondering if you wanted to go out for breakfast?" Hermione called through the door.

He perked his head up and rose his eyebrows. "Cherries?"

"No, the milkman, Padfoot!" Hermione snickered through the door.

"Well, if you got tea for me, I'm all yours," Sirius called out.

The door opened, and Hermione walked in with a cup in her hand. "Good morning, handsome," she snickered.

The animagus made sure his hips were well covered as her eyes skated his form. "Oh, I didn't realize that you were indisposed," Hermione huffed as she cast her eyes to the ground.

"You're gorgeous," He sneered, and she glared at him. "I'm a masterpiece," he added as he placed his hands behind his head.

"That's all well and good, but you need pants to go to breakfast," she said and set the cup down on his night table.

She was moving toward the door, and he cleared his throat. "How upset did Moony seem this morning?"

"Well, he was happy to know that I was going dress shopping for our date tonight, so he's in decent spirits. Something happen?" Hermione asked as she glanced back at him.

Sirius shook his head and groaned. "No, nothing, well, we had a spat, but I think it's cleared up."

Hermione turned to the nearly nude animagus and pinched her lips. "Can we be frank with each other a moment?"

"Only if you let me put on some pants," he said.

Hermione faced the door and listened to the clothing rustle before he sounded approval.

"I'm decent; go ahead, Hermione."

She pivoted to see him lounging on the bed with his cup in hand. "Well, I don't know you," Hermione admitted.

"We've known each other for years," Sirius scoffed before sipping his tea.

The witch paced forward as she shook her head. "No, we haven't. We are similar, Sirius. We hold people just out of arms' reach and like it that way. I did that with Ron, Harry, sometimes even Ginny… it's easier than explaining myself. It's easier than explaining what we had to live through," Hermione sighed.

Sirius patted his bed, and she sat down. The animagus produced a hairbrush from his drawer in the night table and waved it in the air. Hermione just bobbed her head, and he started to comb through her curls. They were managed how she liked them, but somehow understood he needed something to do while they talked.

"My mother enjoyed it when we cried. She loved to see us broken and subservient. You can't tame a hippogriff, but you can starve them enough to break them down. Make them reliant, helpless. That was before I knew what it was like to have friends that were devoted to each other. I loved my brother, but he was broken long before I was ever free. I couldn't save him," He spoke in a calm tone as he brushed her hair.

Hermione glanced back at him as his fingers mingled with brush strokes. "Did you have trouble with them at first?"

"Oh yes, I hated James the first day on the train. Pompous, self-righteous child. Peter was so meek and malleable; it sickened me. Remus was the one who opened my eyes. I was in my bed and trying to stifle my sobs one night the first month of school- I had a bad dream that my mother was going to torture me when I got home for being in Gryffindor. He crawled into bed with me and just held me. His broken pieces matched mine. That was when I knew I would always love him."

"Is that why you convinced the others to help him when you found out he was a werewolf?" Hermione asked.

Sirius chuckled as he leaned over her shoulder. "The exact reason."

Hermione touched his hand on her other shoulder. "I'm sorry you had to live through that, Sirius. Remus told me very little about your upbringing, but we got the idea when we stayed here."

"Well, I had tons of time to think about it in Azkaban. I thought I lost everything; I lived in my own memories and regret. I wanted to die, but they kept me just alive enough to wake up screaming. It was a blessing when I got out and saw one of my best friends in his son. It was the first time my jumbled mind was awake."

She squeezed his hand and swallowed. "We don't have to continue if it's too hard."

"No, you wanted to know, and I owe you that. I owe you so much more than that. You took care of him when I couldn't. You let horrible things happen to you because you protected my godson. Hermione, I owe you my life as much as I owe Remus mine. We may bite and snap at each other, but we hold the same wounds."

They were silent as he continued to brush her hair. It ran near her hips when it wasn't in bunches, so he had plenty to work with. Hermione wasn't expecting to have such a heavy conversation first thing in the morning, but here they were. The rhythm of his strokes and fingers running through her tresses was lovely.

"Why did you stop with your husband?" Sirius questioned softly.

Hermione closed her eyes and exhaled. "Because he wanted normal. I honestly tried, Sirius. I begged myself every night before I fell asleep not to have horrible dreams of that time. I prayed for an answer to being alright just as he wanted me to be, but it just never came. I love my children, and I loved Ron, but he couldn't handle that I never came out of survival mode. I kept a bag for emergencies right by the door for Merlin's sake."

"It's not wrong to keep fighting what you believe in," he suggested.

"No, but there are pieces I could never give him, he listened to me scream and beg for what seemed like an eternity. I remember wanting to die and begging for it to be over. He never forgave himself, and because of that, I could never speak to him about it. He was right; I never gave him all of myself and eventually I had nothing else to give him."

Sirius picked up her arm and traced the lettering with a deep breath. "I'm so sorry I couldn't save you from this, Hermione. I couldn't even begin to know that pain."

The witch glanced back at him and smiled. "It's a scar now, just a reminder of sacrifice. Yours are tattoos, but it's the same thing."

"Why do you have to do this every time? Every time I think I've seen everything your capable of, you open a new door?"

"Why do you keep looking for doors?" She retorted with a smirk.

"Because you see me," he admitted and pulled her hair back softly.

Hermione closed her eyes as he started to plait the strands elegantly. It was a pattern and reminded her of all the great memories of her mother.

"When Andromeda took me in, she told me about you," Hermione murmured.

"Hm, what of me?"

"Of who you were, how much you loved her and Ted. How she misjudged you and it pained her," Hermione said.

"Did you bring us back?" Sirius questioned, his legs shifted next to hers.

Hermione shook her head and felt the tight feeling of him finishing the braid. "No, but it was the first time I wished for something so desperately, and it came true. It just didn't feel right without you both. Teddy was alone, and Harry was lost. I missed having a reason to fight and someone to talk to."

"And now you're dating my best mate," Sirius chuckled.

"Tell me how you feel about that, really?" Hermione asked.

Sirius bent toward her, his hands on her shoulders. "I think we should get breakfast and get you a pretty dress," he finished and climbed off the bed.

"Sirius," Hermione said with a scowl.

He scratched his bare chest and grinned. "Come on, Cherries, we have places to be," he told her with a wave, before leaving her in his room.

It was a great morning. They ate at a small Italian bakery that Hermione enjoyed when she was younger. The conversation was light, and he listened to her telling stories about growing up as a muggle. It was fascinating, and Sirius was quite charmed by her carefree charisma.

It wasn't until they were walking by the clothing shops that Sirius pointed. "Look, that seems like a great place to start."

He had to drag her inside. Almost quite literally.

"Welcome, if you need anything, let me know. My name is Jonah," the young man at the counter spoke in a chipper higher tone.

Immediately Sirius picked it up and waggled his eyebrows at the witch next to him. "So, my friend is going out with my best mate, and she needs a dress that says come fuck me most politely," Sirius spoke in the same higher tone before flipping his long hair.

The young man gushed! "Oh, sweetheart, I have just the number for you," Jonah exclaimed as he waved his hands dramatically.

"You're the worst, Sirius," Hermione grumbled.

They followed the store associate across the storeroom, and he pulled out a black dress with a smirk. "Nothing says classy like a little black dress. The floral mesh on it says I'm a good girl with a hint of more," he told them with a dramatic wink.

Sirius took the dress and nodded. "Yes, yes and yes," his last word was so much higher than the rest of his tone.

"I'm a divorced mother, I'm not wearing that dress," Hermione huffed with a glare.

Jonah snapped his fingers together with a head shake. "No, girl, you need to own it. You're a sexy, fierce mother," he told her.

"If I try it on, will you please stop looking at me like that, Sirius?" She asked as the older man was grinning wickedly.

Jonah bobbed his head enthusiastically. "I don't even know if you see it, girl, but you will when you get it on, so do it!"

Hermione took the hanger and exhaled as she marched toward the back, only looking to see the young man started chatting Sirius up. It was interesting to see the direction he took when he entered the store. Confusing but intriguing all the same. It was easy to slide on the dress while she thought about things that transpired. Her mind was ticking away with its own dialog as her body worked methodically into the dress.

When she stepped out of the curtains, she noted Jonah had gone to talk on the store phone, leaving Sirius among the pretty dresses she might have worn in another lifetime. He noticed her, and his face lit up. "My, oh, my, Moony is a lucky dog," he said with a smirk.

Hermione turned toward the mirror and swayed in the dress, checking it from all angles. Sirius appeared in the mirror behind her and nodded. "It's a nice fit," she told him.

"It is. I like that it's still modest. He won't grow immediately flustered but still has enough of you to look at," Sirius responded as he touched the skirt of the dress.

It hung down to just above her knees. "Do you think this is trying to hard? I haven't done this in years," Hermione sighed.

Sirius shook his head and slid his fingers along her neck. "Never, ever, hold your head like that," he ordered and pressed his fingers upward under the tip of her chin. "Be proud of who you are. This woman in front of me has no reason to deny herself that. Any man would beg to be at your feet."

She relaxed her posture, and his smile turned crooked. "There she is. Now, you need a pair of good heels, and you would have even me begging to take you home. Mind you; I stopped begging years ago."

"That isn't a far stretch, Sirius," Hermione teased with an arched eyebrow.

"For you, no, it isn't. Relax your jaw, leave just the center of your lips lax," Sirius ordered as his fingers ran next to her jawline.

"I know how to flirt," Hermione said while rolling her eyes.

Sirius glared at her through the reflection and Hermione could see he wasn't going to take no for an answer. She complied, and his eyes traced her form. "That is utter perfection," he breathed before pulling away.

"My god, girl, you look younger than me in that dress. You shouldn't be in those mum jeans and jumpers when you have such a gift," Jonah's voice entered the small bubble they had created.

"She'll need a size thirty-seven heel to match, and I think we've done our job," Sirius told him with a grin.

Hermione cleared her throat and nodded. "I'm going to change."

This thin line she walked. The edges of a tightrope that she didn't realize she had until this morning. Somehow, she didn't see that the existence of a safety net was even there for her. Some of the wrinkles still left under her skin softened around the Marauders, and Sirius, though vexing at times, was another piece of broken. It was comforting all the same.

She had reappeared to see Sirius leaning on the counter with a typical smile. She had seen these smiles for years and knew what was being exchanged. Hermione walked up and placed the dress politely on the counter before pulling out her wallet.

"You see, it's not all in the dress, it's in here," Jonah told her and pressed his hand over his chest. "Confidence is sexy."

Hermione smiled and rocked her head. "I'll remember that for my date," she responded and paid for the items.

The witch excused herself after taking her bag and watched from outside as the young man handed Sirius a piece of paper with a smile. Likely his number. He had more luck with both genders than she ever did with just wizards. That thought made her giggle and shook her head as he came out to join her.

"You have to get hit on everywhere we go?" She asked as he offered his arm.

"Of course, everyone needs an ego boost. That boy is far too young for me, but I'm sure it made his day."

She huffed and sneered playfully up at him. "Today wasn't about you, boy," she mocked.

"No, but it helps," he teased and rummaged through his pocket. "I bought you a set of earrings while you were changing." He said while offering a small box.

Instead of arguing as she would have instinctively, she just squeezed his arm. "Thank you, Pads. I love you too." She told him as she slid the box into her bag.

He leaned over and kissed her temple. "You too, Cherries. I hope you have a wonderful night; you deserve it."

The day was growing long and the hours short until dinner. They parted ways in front of their respective houses, but Hermione didn't stay home… she needed to talk to someone.