Thanks to the fantastic and wonderful David, without whom this fic isn't possible, for he is the backbone of this great tale which you all enjoy. Truly he is the shit. Glory be unto him on this date.

Silver

Lies

Sirius gripped his wand tightly as he sped through Godric's Hollow.

Panting breaths and chest burning with a stitch, he didn't stop running. The small village a blur as his steps pounded against the cobblestone breaking the morning silence.

Heart racing, he turned the corner in time to see the shop's wards shimmer a violent orange.

The Marauder stopped and leant against the wall. Hand clutching at his side as he caught his breath. Sirius watched with growing amusement as Gideon tried and failed to bring down the wards. He smirked.

The bastard was powerful and skilled, he'd grudgingly admit, but there was no way in hell he was going to bring down Black wards. He hated his family and everything it represented but Sirius couldn't deny the skill of their inherited magic.

The Blacks were a powerful lot and those wards weren't coming down unless he allowed it.

Sirius continued to gasp for breath, huffing a laugh as the orange idiot tried a different spell and the wards rippled a vibrant yellow.

The Marauder started walking towards the pair, his footsteps heavy. Eyebrow arched in amusement as Granger tried explaining his wand movements to the orangutan.

'It's like a sharp jab with a downward flick and then he twirls it in a tight circle, really fast.'

Grey eyes flickered over the witch who was trying to gesture with her hand and finger. He smiled wider. Granger was doing a good job of describing his wand movements, but no matter how much she explained there was no way to dismantle the spellwork. The only countercharm was a secret only him and his dad - and Reggie now too he supposed - knew. A pang of something shot through his chest.

'And you're sure you've never heard him utter a word?'

Granger shook her head. 'He usually casts nonverbally.'

'He can't always cast nonverbally,' said the stocky wizard and Sirius smirked at his bitter tone.

'Jealousy suits you mate.'

Gideon became a blur as he turned to face him, wand aimed at his chest.

The Marauder smirked, his gait slow and steady as he pulled out his own wand and simply because he could, cast his Patronus with a silent incantation.

Padfoot's ghostly duplicate bounded out of his wand and turned to face him, tail wagging.

Sirius smirked at Gideon as the bloke's left eye twitched.

'Don't be embarrassed mate, some of us are just better.'

A giggle broke out and the two wizards turned to the witch, whose red face was hidden behind her hand. They followed her gaze and his lips curled with amusement at the sight of Padfoot happily licking himself.

He shrugged, looking back to the still giggling Granger and a disgusted Gideon. 'Self-love is important.'

Sirius smiled at Granger as she moved inside the shop, her tinkling laughter surprisingly pleasant.

'You're late,' spat the red nuisance. 'I'll be sure to tell Albus how useless you are.'

Grey eyes settled on the shorter wizard. A smirk on his lips as he glared down the prick.

'Go ahead,' he said as he passed him, bumping into his shoulder as he did.

Sirius grimaced and stopped as a firm grip met his bicep, his scar still sensitive to the touch. He sneered down at him, using his height to intimidate the shorter man.

'Let go of me.'

'This isn't a game Black!'

Hard eyes moved to the pale hand grabbing him. 'Get your hands off me you piece of shit.'

Gideon squeezed harder and he bit back a hiss, determined not to show the ginger tosser any weakness.

'Where the fuck were you?'

'That's none of your business-,'

'-It fucking is when Hermione's involved.'

Sirius pulled his arm away. 'Piss off Prewett, I'm not in the mood for your bitching.'

Blue eyes ran the length of him, a sneer on the ginger's face. 'You're a fucking joke. Look at you, still wearing the same damn clothes from last night. Lipstick all over your face, your neck marked up. Smelling like a fucking brewery, you irresponsible, fucking child. You're done Black. As soon as I tell Dumbledore about this, you're gone.'

He would've laughed if his words hadn't caused a sour taste to fill his mouth. He grimaced.

Nothing the idiot said would make a difference. The headmaster had Sirius bent over with his hands around his ankles and he knew it.

He smirked. 'What bothers you more? That I'm a better wizard than you or that Dumbledore knows it?'

Blue eyes flashed and the Marauder chuckled. 'Or is it that he trusts me?'

'You don't belong in the fucking Order and everybody knows it,' growled Gideon. 'We're all waiting for you to slip and when you fucking do, the second Dumbledore names you traitor I'll hunt you down like the fucking dog you are.'

'That'll never happen-'

'-You're a Black, it's only a matter of time.'

'You'd love that wouldn't you? You son of a bitch,' hissed Sirius with barely contained anger.

Red sparks flew out of Gideon's wand. 'Nothing about you is good or worth dying for Black. Because of you, good people will die.'

A stab of pain hit him in the chest and his vision blurred as images of James, Remus and Pete flashed through his mind. The Potters. Reggie.

Sirius shoved him away, aiming his wand under the twat's chin.

'Give me a fucking reason,' spat Sirius, his wand steady and blazing eyes trained on the shorter wizard's.

Gideon didn't back down, not that he'd expected him to.

'You're no better than your bitch cousin and that Death Eater brother of yours.'

Sirius saw red and his arm swung before he found himself on his back, pinned to the ground by the stocky wizard. He struggled beneath him, swearing furiously and hitting any bit of the other man he could reach.

A punch to his chin and he stopped as the world tilted around him. Gideon pulled at his shirt, his breath hot against his skin.

'One of these days you'll get what you deserve,' he hissed.

Sirius swallowed thickly, blinking away the fog that'd settled over him. Blue skies and bright morning light greeted him as Gideon moved away.

'You don't deserve to fight with us. And you sure as hell aren't good enough for this mission.'

He huffed a laugh, bitterness surging through him. 'Make sure to tell Dumbledore that.'

Gideon's boots scrapped across the dirt as small rocks scattered. He pushed himself up and stood on shaky legs. Grey eyes focused on the angry, little man.

The ginger backed away, breathing heavily, wandtip glowing.

'I'll be watching you Black.'

'Even when I shit or wank?'

The light at the end of Gideon's wand flared as he began walking away. 'You're no good. Your whole bloodline is tainted and you're no better than they are. Eventually, Dumbledore will see it and even he won't protect you.'

Blue eyes roamed the building behind him before meeting his stare. 'I've seen that spellwork used in a few places and no one had been able to break it. The last was at the Appleby safe house.'

His breath caught in his throat and his heart pounded against his chest as a vindictive gleam settled over the prick's eyes.

'I wonder what Dumbledore and Moody will have to say about that.'

'I'm sure you'll find out.'

Sirius watched him walk away with a sour taste in his mouth and an ache in his gut.

The Marauder stomped into the shop, the scent of roses going unnoticed as he warded the door shut behind him- a web of red rippled across the walls, slowly melting into them with a slight hiss.

It's Black family magic son. Passed down the line, known only to the Lord and his heir.

His stomach churned and he raced to the loo, just managing to push the door open and bent over the bowl before vomiting.

The rancid and sour smell of beer and bile mixed together reached his nostrils and he vomited again.

Eyes stinging and head aching, he swallowed thickly. Leant against the wall, crouched by the toilet and head bowed, he took in deep, steadying breaths.

The wards had been used in the Appleby safe house.

Stomach settled, he walked to the sink and rinsed out his mouth. He brushed his hair back with wet and shaking hands, staring at his reflection, not recognising the person looking back at him. He had a day's growth on his face. Eyes, bloodshot with dark smudges under them. A bruise forming on his lower lip and chin. Neck marked, lipstick stains on the collar of his shirt ... he looked how he felt.

The Marauder pulled out his wand and flinched as his clothes grew wet, hot and began to steam from the freshening charm. He washed his face as regret sank in.

Last night had not been worth any of this. He'd been left unsatisfied and no amount of sex had helped his mood or distracted his brain.

He took the steps down towards the cellar as he combed his fingers through his hair, brushing back his dark locks with damp fingers. He found Granger beginning her daily routine and paid her no mind as he began to look through her potion stores. The longer he searched, the quieter she got and the more he felt her gaze on him. His neck prickled.

When all ingredients were collected he took the space opposite her, across the table.

Before he began, he raised his wand and happily drank the bottle of Pepper-up that zoomed into his waiting hand.

Sirius squeezed his eyes shut as the unpleasant sensation of steam whistling out of his ears passed through him. Within a minute the feeling was gone and he began brewing. He could practically feel Hermione struggling to resist asking questions as he ground a handful of standard potion ingredient and twelve yellow daisies into a mortar. The dry herbs and delicate petals turning into a fine paste as he used more force than was technically needed.

He couldn't stop hearing Gideon's parting words. Not because of the insults and accusations, but because of their meaning. Appleby had been a few months back. Four at the most ...

Reggie could still be alive.

The Marauder arched an eyebrow as he looked up and caught her curious eye. He glared when she looked away blushing and he suddenly remembered the plan he'd concocted in the early morning hours when sleep had eluded him.

'I talked to Dumbledore.'

She stopped her dicing and with a lick of her lips, she raised her head.

'You did?'

She sounded surprised. He nodded.

'He was at headquarters last night and I spoke to him.'

'What'd he say?'

Sirius didn't break eye contact as he shook his head, licking his suddenly dry lips. His heart was pounding in his chest and eardrums.

Regret and shame made him second guess himself but he pushed those feelings away. He had to do this. He had to.

'I'll only tell you after you answer my questions.'

'What?' she asked with a frown. Her dark eyes searched his face and quickly grew cold as she realised his plan. 'You're blackmailing me?'

Sirius tilted his head in a nonchalant way that hinted nothing at his nerves. 'You want an answer, I do too. Several in fact. Overdue answers, if we're being honest.'

'No.'

'Fine.'

He went back to his brewing. Picking eight Elf's ears leaves, he added them to the mortar.

'You can't do that,' she spat, glaring.

'I can and I am. I don't get answers, you don't get an answer. Deal with it.'

'Tell me what he said.'

'Who are you?'

She didn't answer, just stood there and glared. He didn't break eye contact, even as bile burned the back of his throat.

'What'd Dumbledore say?'

'He said no,' replied Sirius and she flinched as something pulled on his gut. 'Or maybe he said yes and he'll see you tonight. Or three weeks from now. Or not at all cos the answer really is no. Either way, I know the truth. You want answers? So do I.'

He saw her shifting in the corner of his eye as he began dicing a Murlap tentacle. He could feel her thinking again and he tried not to hold his breath.

His whole plan relied on her words from yesterday, on him really being her only chance of reaching Dumbledore. If she had other means of contacting him, then his plan had been fucked from the very beginning.

'I can't answer your questions,' she said through clenched teeth.

'Why? Dumbledore's orders?'

Silence was his answer. He could've screamed in frustration right then and there.

He slammed down the cutting knife, breathing in deeply before he looked up at her. Overwhelmed with desperation and anxious from all this secrecy- he couldn't take it anymore. He needed answers.

When he'd been a child, he'd fallen into the river which surrounded the Black country estate. It'd rained heavily for three days straight and the water had swollen. He'd gone exploring, hunting down Mudbloods, forcing them to surrender to the Merpeople when he'd slipped and fallen into the rapidly moving river. He'd felt the water move down his throat as he breathed it in. He'd bobbed and struggled to swim against the current only to find himself repeatedly being pulled under. All the while panic gripped him because he'd known- known- that he was going to die.

That's what this whole thing with Granger and Dumbledore felt like.

No matter how much he fought it, the current was winning and he knew he was going to drown.

'Why do you want to join the Order so badly?' he asked her, his voice calm.

She licked her lips and his eyes followed her tongue's movement. 'Because I need to help.'

He nodded, still watching her mouth. 'And I need to know what I'm possibly gonna die for. That I'm doing something important instead of just sitting here, while my friends risk their lives out there... I'm not asking for detailed answers Granger. Just some peace of mind.'

He looked away from her when she didn't say anything and he was about to open his mouth again, when she spoke. Her voice quiet.

'I-I know things.'

Grey eyes met brown and he swallowed thickly, heart hammering against his chest.

'What kind of things?' he asked quietly.

'Information.'

'About what?'

Granger shook her head and he nodded, conceding to her refusal. He hadn't really expected an answer to that particular question.

'Is what I'm doing here important?'

The witch frowned, weighing her answer before she gave a reluctant nod.

'Is protecting whatever you know- worth dying for?'

She frowned, shaking her head, not understanding his meaning. Sirius gestured to her. 'Are you willing to die rather than give up what you know?'

She didn't hesitate to answer and the strength of her resolve flattened him.

'Yes.'

He studied her face as she begun to study his.

She had a natural beauty about her- organic and rare. Sirius frowned, once again wondering how he hadn't noticed it before.

Become her friend.

'Truce Granger.'

'What?' she said with raised eyebrows.

He huffed a laugh. 'I said truce. I'm done fighting with you. If this is important, then there needs to be some kind of trust and that's not happening with how we get on.'

The brunette frowned, clearly suspicious. He didn't blame her. An olive branch was needed.

'Dumbledore said yes to you joining the Order. He'll visit you tonight at eleven to discuss your role.'

She looked shocked, dumbfounded even. Again, he couldn't blame her.

'He said yes?'

Sirius nodded. 'Yeah.'

'Just ... like that? Yeah, alright?'

The dog animagus licked his lips, looking away from her eyes. He started back on the purple, slimy tentacle.

'No, he asked me about your health and mental state.'

'He what?'

He told her what he could. As for his motives, he had no answer and he made that clear. A silence settled over them, all through which he continued to brew.

'What are you doing?' she asked him, peering into his cauldron as he turned off the flame.

'Brewing the method to my success.'

'Your what?'

Sirius smirked as he added three drops of pickled bat wing oil to the mixture. The potion spat and hissed, emitting pink sparks as it changed from a dark yellow to a black hue almost instantly.

'Is it illegal?'

He smiled at the witch opposite him and asked her the question he'd been wondering for some time now.

'How old are you Granger?'

A look of confusion fluttered across her face and he cleared his throat, wondering if he'd just asked the wrong thing. He lit the flame back on and the potion started to shimmer.

He cut some Valerian root and added them to the bubbling cauldron, turning the potion a dull orange.

'I'm nineteen,' he offered in an attempt to move along.

'Eighteen,' she said, not sounding sure at all.

He nodded and they once again grew silent. The Marauder studied his potion, removing it from the flame before it started to boil.

Sirius spared her a glance before adding the tentacles to the solution. Grey eyes trained on the mixture as the colour grew steadily lighter and began to solidify.

Hermione palmed the round, flat jar. Studying the yellow paste within.

Bruise remover. That had been the secret to Sirius' success. As soon as it'd cooled, he'd applied it to his neck and chin.

Here, he'd said giving her some, it'll work for any bruises but I don't recommend putting it on your delicate bits.

It was also the paste she'd applied to her own eye, years ago, given to her by the twins.

Sirius must've taught them to brew it, the arse.

'Hermione?'

She played with the jar some more, gathering her thoughts.

Trying to reign in her temper.

'I don't understand sir.'

'To have you be an active member is dangerous. You must know that.'

She did. She also knew how to bring down Voldemort. But he didn't want to hear it.

'Sir-'

He raised a hand and anger shot through her.

'I know what you're thinking but it's not wise to go down that road.'

'We could save lives.'

The silence between them was awkward and stilted. He didn't want to hear what she had to say and she wanted nothing more than to plead her case.

'Does Voldemort lose in your time?'

She was tempted to lie. No, she'd say and he'd be forced to reconsider and her plan would get underway.

That would've been the ideal. Realistically, she knew he knew the answer already and that this was just a ploy to prove his point. In the end, her silence was his answer and the powerful wizard sat back on his chair, raising his cup to drink his tea.

'We cannot risk the timeline Hermione.'

'The timeline has already been altered Professor,' she argued back.

The powerful wizard shook his head sadly. 'Only yours my dear.'

'And I'm important to it. I'm vital to his downfall sir. I know it may not seem like I am but I played a role.'

'I don't doubt that, I never have-'

'-And what of the other lives my presence has disrupted? Batty and Hooky's? What of Sirius'? Remus'? The twins and Moody and yours?' She searched his face for signs of recognition and acceptance. 'Ripples occurred the second I arrived. Your decisions on top of those ripples influenced their decisions and so on and so forth. Things have already changed sir. To ignore it and to acknowledge otherwise - that's the real danger.'

The headmaster shut his eyes with a deep sigh. He looked tired and worn. A pang of guilt shot through her, knowing she was partly the cause.

The silence returned, heavy and thick.

She took a sip of her untouched and now cold tea. It needed more sugar. And cream. But mostly sugar.

'We will stay the course.'

Her head bowed as frustration filled her every pore. 'Sir-'

'It is for the best. We cannot risk endangering the future and lives...'

'We can save lives sir! We could bring down Voldemort sooner rather than later.'

'We could fail and secure his victory.'

And there it was again, the great and ominous What If? to her plan. Her anger ebbed, replaced by a heaviness in her chest and belly.

There was nothing she could answer to that. He was right. Just as she was. They could save lives just as easily as destroy them. They could guarantee his failure or his victory.

It was a dangerous road she was walking on and she knew it but the ultimate end was too damn tempting. She had the knowledge, he had the power and resources, they could do it...

But.

What if they failed?

What if Voldemort won?

In the end, that What If was too big to ignore.

A manila envelope slid across the table and she frowned at it before meeting his eyes.

'Will you accept?'

A glorified secretary. That's what he wanted her for. Her official position within the Order because anything else was too dangerous and too risky.

Active mission work was impossible due to obvious reasons. She couldn't know more than she already did, so mission related paperwork was out of the question.

Letter sending.

From people in hiding to their loved ones.

Without looking away she reached for the thin envelope.

There was no point in arguing anymore. He'd made his point clear, just as she had only to end up with nothing. Neither backing down. Both believing they were right, knowing the other was wrong. It was a pointless cycle they'd been playing with these past two hours.

'Hermione-'

'I'll do what I can,' she said, studying the thin letter.

Silence. Again.

She put the small jar back in her pocket. Drank more cold and bitter tea.

'I'm afraid.'

Her eyes shot up, her breath caught in her throat, her mouth ran dry and her stomach clenched.

'On more than one occasion, it has been tempting to ask you questions. To change the future. But reason and logic win over desire. I - we - cannot run the risk of him winning Hermione. You, above anyone else, know the pain and suffering he will cause. Just as you know the victory that will come from it. You don't need to say it Hermione, I already know. He is gone in your time. Can you honestly look me in the eye and say that outcome is worth risking?'

No. She couldn't.

But she couldn't sit idly by either.

'If done correctly,' she quietly said. 'That outcome could come sooner.'

He looked away first, a pensive frown on his face as he served himself more tea. He didn't seem to mind drinking it cold.

'I will consider it,' he said and her mouth fell open, hope bursting in her chest. He raised a hand to still her. 'I am not agreeing to anything, but I will give it a thorough consideration.'

Her gaze dropped, her short lived hope shifting to disappointment. Bitter resentment burned through her. Really, he'd said nothing more than placating words. She was fiddling with the post when he spoke.

'Will that be all Hermione? Are you positive you are well and feel secure here?'

She nodded. 'I'm okay.'

He set his napkin on his plate, peering over her from his half-moon glasses. A small smile pulling at his lips. That twinkle of his, back. 'Yes, I dare say you are much better than last we met.'

'Yeah.'

She frowned, remembering Sirius' request. A pang of something akin to regret shot through her and her scowl deepened.

'Hermione?'

She blinked, clearing her throat. 'There is one more thing I'd like to discuss with you sir.'

The powerful wizard nodded and she scooted to the edge of her seat.

'Sirius. Can he be removed from guarding me? We don't- we have issues with communication and ...' she sighed, shaking her head and sitting back on her chair. 'We don't get on Professor and quite frankly we annoy each other. I'd very much like it if he was moved.'

The headmaster nodded, that damn twinkle of his full force. 'I understand but that's impossible at the moment. The twins are now overseas, Remus is up north and Alastor is spread thinly as it is. I'm sorry Hermione, but Sirius is the only available option for the foreseeable future.'

'I was afraid of that.'

He steepled his fingers over his mouth and she fought the urge to glare. She wasn't completely sure of course, but she swore he was hiding a smile behind his damn fingers.

'Tell me Hermione,' he crisply said while crossing his legs. 'What do you think about this new theory on incomplete incantations and transfiguration that has caused a stir? Minerva has been quite displeased.'

She grinned despite herself. 'I bet she has.'

His visit turned amicable after that, the remainder of which was spent discussing magical theory. It was a welcomed distraction she had to admit. Awkward and a bit forced but refreshing nonetheless.

She loved Batty, enjoyed their heated discussions and intellectual sparring but their interactions had steadily grown tiresome. Unsatisfying. Diminished in her mind's eye by the fact that she was forced to hold back and hide her full potential. Her secret was an invisible barrier, curving her words, affecting the outcome of all topics discussed and cheating them both out of a proper debate. With Dumbledore, she didn't have that problem. There was no need to hold herself back and it was liberating.

He left her in the early morning hours with a bid for a good night's rest and a promise for her continued safety.

Sleep was difficult to come by. Broken and interrupted, she tossed and turned all night. By the time sunlight peaked through her window, she was wide awake. It wasn't hard to get up and head to work.

It was odd working on a Sunday and Sirius did not hesitate to make his disgust known.

'What the fuck is wrong with you? It's Sunday.'

Hermione spared him a glance as she shuffled her way past him towards the shop. 'Well done. Can you tell the date and time too?'

'Granger, I know you like to work but your boner for it is getting ridiculous.'

She glared at him, flustered. 'Don't say that.'

'Sorry. Your lady wood.'

Turning to him, she pursed her lips and clenched her jaw as the bastard grinned. With a scowl, Hermione kept moving and didn't speak until they'd reached the shop.

The Marauder moved to his seat and she went to work. The silence didn't last and once again, she suspected he had an issue with quiet time.

She shut her eyes, begging for strength and fortitude as he spoke. Mentally preparing herself for his usual attacks. The sour taste of regret settled on the back of her throat. She felt stupid almost. For a second, she had actually thought he'd stick to his truce idea.

'What'd Dumbledore say?'

Hermione jumped, startled by his sudden closeness.

'What are you doing?' she asked as he began to chop ingredients alongside her.

'Brewing.'

She blinked. 'You ran out of hickey remover already?'

He chuckled and her eyebrows shot upwards.

'Unfortunately, no.'

'Then what are you doing?'

'Brew-'

'I know you're brewing,' she snapped as he smirked. 'Why?'

Sirius lifted his head and sighed at the ceiling before turning to her. 'I thought we'd agreed on a truce Granger?'

'Technically, you agreed. I didn't say anything.'

'No. You did. You just forgot.'

She shook her head. 'I'm pretty sure I didn't.'

'Didn't what?'

'Forget about agreeing with you.'

Black eyebrows shot upwards with feigned confusion that grated on her nerves. 'Agreed to what?'

'A truce!' she hissed.

'Why thank you Granger. I'd like that.'

He was insufferable. Completely and without exception and she most certainly did not stare at him with wide eyes and a gaping mouth. The Marauder snickered when she turned back to her potion ingredients, her cheeks burning.

The cellar was too hot she realised. She'd have to check on that later.

The silence got to him again and he began to fidget, shifting from one foot to another. From the corner of her eye, she could see him raising and dropping his hand only to huff and shift some more.

He bumped her left shoulder with his elbow which could only be interpreted as downright playful. 'So what'd Dumbledore say?'

She was staring again. She knew she was but she couldn't help it. He was acting bloody weird and it was disturbing as hell.

Sirius Black was being nice. Damn near friendly. To her.

He had to be under the Imperius Curse. Or drunk. Possibly both. Either way something was horribly wrong.

'What's wrong with you?'

He huffed a laugh, nodding. 'Yeah, I know. Feels bloody weird to me too.'

'Then why-'

Sirius groaned, bowing his head. 'Because we agreed on a truce Granger and if it's the last fucking thing we do, we will get on. So even if it kills us, we will be matey.' He gave her a sideways glance. 'Just don't fall in love with me.'

Hermione snorted. 'I can pretty much guarantee that that will not happen.'

'Come on Granger, just fucking tell me already.'

She picked up her silver knife and told him what she could. About her new position as Order owl and their conversation about his immediate removal which she was sure he'd been after.

'... So yeah, I tried... Sorry,' she added as an afterthought.

He'd fallen quiet halfway through her explanation, brow furrowed staring at the potion ingredients before him. She had the distinct impression that he wasn't really looking at them though. That he was in fact, miles away.

Hermione started the flame and began to fill the cauldron with water.

'Leave it,' he said, eyes downcast and voice rough.

She frowned at him. 'Sorry?'

'Sit down Granger. We gotta talk.'

The back of her neck stood on end and she couldn't tear her eyes away from him. That feeling that something was wrong flooded back and she found that whatever he had to say, that she suddenly didn't want to hear it.

Her life was finally falling back in line. Some semblance of control had been formed and she had the very strong sense that it was going to get shot to hell. She doesn't know how it happened but she found herself sat on her stool. Staring at him. Again.

Except this time, he was staring right back.

His eyes are beautiful.

Light grey in the centre, a darker shade surrounding the iris. Her own eyes roamed his face and once again she became acutely aware of how handsome he was. It was damn near criminal.

He cleared his throat, studying her face.

'I didn't tell you everything yesterday.'

A swooping sensation went through her stomach and she nodded slowly, running her tongue over her lips. 'Okay...?'

Grey eyes watched her mouth and she fought the urge to lick them again.

'You were going to talk to Dumbledore, so I couldn't run the risk of telling you everything... When I spoke to him, after he asked all those questions about your health and shit, he gave me new orders. In regards to you, I mean.'

She watched his anxious face. Stunned or numb, she didn't know what she was feeling but she was finding it hard to look away. His eyes moved over her face while she continued to focus on his eyes. Perhaps he was waiting for her to speak or ask something but she had nothing.

He looked down and away and the act made anger flare through her because she needed to see his face as he said whatever the hell it was that he had to say.

'I'm supposed to become your friend and spy on you for him.'

She knew it.

It'd been too strange that he'd agreed to her joining the Order. Anger fought with frustration and hurt but ultimately, acceptance won. She should've expected this really. It'd been established that she was Dumbledore's best card, he'd want her well monitored. The only thing that didn't make sense in the whole equation was Sirius. He, she couldn't understand.

'Why are you telling me this,' she asked quietly.

He didn't answer right away and her anxiety built the longer he remained quiet.

'The only reason I've survived this long Granger is because I follow my instinct first and orders second.'

'And you think he's wrong.'

A single nod was his answer.

'Why?'

'Because I don't think you're dangerous or that you deserve that shit from him.'

'And you're telling me why?'

He met her stare and held it. 'Because he's fucking us both Granger and as far as I'm concerned, we're in this shit together whether we like it or not. He wants to keep you in line through me while you both keep me in the dark and even with all this secrecy, I still can't help but feel that he's fucking you over harder than me. And honestly? I don't like that.'

Her mouth was dry. She looked down at her hands, at his boots, at him.

'Why do you even care?'

He shrugged. 'I don't know. Like I said, I follow my gut.'

'So what?' Hermione shook her head, trying to clear the confusion. 'What are you trying to say Sirius? What- what is this?' she asked him, gesturing between them. 'What does it mean?'

'It means we're partners on a mission, Granger. You watch my back and I'll watch yours. Either of us gets a hint that he's trying to change the game on us again, we talk about it. Prepare if need be, I don't know.'

'You're acting like he's the enemy.'

Sirius shook his head. 'He's not. He's the leader of the Order of the Phoenix. And that's much worse.'

She licked her lips, shaking her head. Eyes shut as she tried to make sense of this whole thing.

'Our lives are in each other's hands Granger, it's about sodding time we started acting like it.'

'So ... what? You'll tell me everything he says?'

'Pretty much,' he said.

'And you expect me to what? Return the favour by telling you things? I can't do that Sirius.'

'I know and I'm not expecting it. Just don't keep me in dark if you can help it. Simple as that.'

This was mad. Absolutely and unequivocally frightening. Not because it felt wrong, but because she felt like he was throwing her a lifeline.

A slow nod, followed by a firmer one. 'Okay ... okay. Yeah.'

'So truce?'

'Truce.'

'Alright,' he said spinning in his seat and picking up the cutting knife.

Her hand trembled as she picked up the Potioneer's Wand, but before she could do anything with it Sirius stopped her.

'Leave it Granger, I'll brew. Tend to those letters you told me about,' he nodded at her purse where she'd told him she kept them. 'I know how much trouble they are. Whenever a few of us have the chance we try and sort through them but we hardly ever finish. That envelope is magically enhanced so there'll be more than a few in there. Leave the brewing to me.'

She didn't move, just stared at his messy working area.

'I can brew Granger,' he said without a hint of humour. 'Trust me.'

Trust me.

Heavy words, filled to brim with impossible expectations that could blow up in her face.

Could she trust him? She didn't know him. All she had was a vague idea in regards to his loyalty when it came to those he loved- not strangers like her.

Hermione hadn't much liked the Sirius of her time but she'd known without a shadow of a doubt that she could trust him. She'd saved his life, he knew he could trust her.

This Sirius wasn't him though. And she'd done nothing to earn that kind of trust from him.

He could easily be lying. This could all be a ploy to do as Dumbledore said...

'How can I?' she asked him, her voice barely above a whisper.

He turned to look at her. His dark hair falling over his eyes, hiding half his face.

'The same way I'll have to learn to trust you.'

She shook her head. 'It's not that easy.'

He pushed back his fringe, piercing her with his beautiful eyes. 'I won't hurt you Granger. And I won't ever let anyone hurt you. I promise.'

She swallowed. A shaky nod her own reply.

Hermione stood and moved to the opposite end of her table, the only bit she'd maintained clutter free.

He was right about the envelope. She reached into it and was met with a handful of unread and unopened post.

She was opening the first letter, dated four months ago, when he spoke.

'You have a middle name Granger?'

She nodded, fear gripping her because of that simple question.

Trust me.

'Jean ... You?'

'Orion. Favourite colour and song...?'