A note from Serade Black: Love everyone's theories, truly. They help to see if I'm coming across the way I want to, so keep them up! What does Remus know? Also, thank you for the note on the lack of raccoons. Also, I've been to The Forum in Camden Town (to see Bauhaus), it's since been changed to the HMVForum, so I was unable to see if it existed in 1981. Yes, I'm a patient passion writer. I'm a fan of "Hang on. We're getting there" romances, so thank you to all of those that have stuck by. As for the remarks on the titles, I have to throw you off somehow! Enjoy. ~ SB
Ch. 21 - SO LITTLE TIME
"This Time the Dream's on Me" by Glenn Miller played loudly on the record player, crackling quietly to show the age of the record. Keeping a slow tempo, Sirius and Hermione remained to be the only couple next to Andromeda and Ted in the center of the living room. Swaying to the beat of the oboe solo, Sirius held Hermione close, but appropriate.
He had a hand placed low her back as his other hand cradled hers close to his chest. Her arm relaxed around his neck, her fingers lightly playing with the collar of his jacket. Together their foreheads were joined at the temples as both of them allowed themselves to be swept up in the tranquil moment of their dance. They were oblivious to everything around them, except for the company they kept. The world was at bay outside hidden windows and the wind picked up around the house, protecting them from the elements. Evil was lurking just over the horizon, Halloween was hovering over her and still, they couldn't be bothered.
James and Lily were packing their baby things while Peter was looking shifty, but really it was probably just indigestion from all the meatballs he had consumed. Remus was mostly quiet through the evening; at least he was towards Hermione. He'd shared a few quiet glances in her direction, but nothing more than small talk when they'd switch partners.
Hermione still couldn't help but feel slightly on edge. It did help that Sirius was at her side for most of the night; his presence around her offered a sense of peace in the nightly activities. Though it was never discussed what their next step was, for Hermione it was inevitable that she had succumbed to her own desired need. However, when she heard the ticking of a clock it was a sad reminder that the end was near.
As was the sweet coddling family of three standing by the doorway discussing private things over a slumbering, now very sleepy baby Harry. Lily was whispering low to her husband, glancing back at the remaining room guests and then back to James. With a wave of good night and a peck from her husband, Lily went out the back door and touched the fourth ceramic gnome on her right to go home by herself.
James returned to the living room, clapping his hands and rubbing them together. He looked around the room to his three best mates and opened his arms, "Pub?"
"No way!" Sirius barked; his ears perked like someone had just blown the silent dog whistle.
"Absolutely, Padfoot. Lily said I need a night out with the boys, so I'm taking the offer and running. Who's with me?"
At first Sirius beamed with excitement, as if mischief was twinkling in his eye like a long lost friend. But, as he remembered whose back he was lightly scratching, the twinkle went to a dull shine and he glanced over at his date.
Hermione looked back at him stunned; surprised that he was watching her carefully and hopeful. She hadn't thought of it from their prospective, just her own sheltered one that didn't appear that she was Sirius's current standing girlfriend. At least, in their eyes she was. Parting her lips and looking around the room as if all eyes were on her, even Andromeda's, she broke into a smile.
"You don't have to ask me, Sirius." she said, as if her opinion truly did not matter.
He leaned over so only she could hear and with a definite nod, he said very clearly, "Yes, I do."
His intensity was almost too much for it was obvious to him that her opinion did matter. She mattered to him. Her presence next to him, the way he held a hand on her shoulder, her back, his look and his overall possessiveness around her was beginning to help her deduce that she was, suffice it to say, his girlfriend.
In a blur, Sirius took her home, kissed her good night three times, and left her to go out pubbing with the guys. The original Marauders back together, prowling around London and different wizarding parts that even she hadn't discovered yet.
Meanwhile, she was still standing in the foyer of Professor McGonagall's house absorbing what all had transpired that evening. Her brain had felt like it had been put into overdrive, performing damage control and preparing herself for more of her mission to become exposed. Like the rewind button on a film, the scene in which her Time Turner slipped out of her blouse and dangled in front of Harry long enough for Remus to see it kept replaying over and over in her head. She remembered the way he looked at her after she tucked it away and the lack of conversation from Remus. His silence was beginning to make her anxious.
But, on the upside of all dark things, she was realizing why she hadn't pulled the plug on the entire thing. Sirius. Young Sirius and the potential that he still existed in the Sirius she knew in her own time. What he liked, what he didn't like, the way he dressed, the way he thought, all of these things were the seed of what he was back at home. Granted, time and prison had taken its toll on him, but there was no reason why he couldn't enjoy life again the way he used to. And with her help.
Hermione changed into her nightgown and slipped into bed. She left a window open in the guest room she slept in, to hear any outside sounds, including that barking dog that seemed to give her more peace at night. On the second floor, she felt safe with having it open as the clouds began to come in more and more, indicating that the storm wasn't too far behind or that evil was strengthening not too far away. Regardless, the end was near for said evil for the first around, even at the cost of a good young family, trust and an innocent man's life.
0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0
"Here ya go, love," Sirius said as he left some muggle money on the bar. He couldn't resist a wink to the older bar mistress with the long graying hair.
He managed to balance four mugs of beer frothing over their tops in two hands, wishing that he could take out his wand and carry them properly. He maneuvered around some vacant chairs, finally reaching the table with Peter, Remus and James all sitting and watching him while they were on the brink of cracking a smile. Setting the beers down in the center, a small bit splashing over, each wizard reached for one as Sirius surveyed the dodgy muggle bar.
"I dunno James," Sirius began as he fell into the worn out chair with a thud. "This has got to be the shadiest muggle pub you've taken us too, yet." He shook his head and reached behind to take his wand out from his back pocket to tuck it safely into the inside pocket of his jacket, "And that's coming from me!"
"Why do we come to these, again?" Peter asked while taking a sip of his beer and leaving a white mustache on his upper lip from the foam.
"Lily thinks it's safer to go to unknown places, but really I think the number of supporters on our side is up. If anyone were to truly try anything, I think more witches and wizards than you think would step up," James said, licking his upper lip so that he didn't look like his mate that sat across from him still oblivious.
"Speaking of witches-" Sirius started before his company erupted into a circle of groans, each slapping the table hard with their fists.
"Who had three minutes with a beer?" James looked to Remus and Peter; his palm open and curious.
"What's that?" Sirius whined as the three men continued to groan and shake their heads.
"We each had a wager," James began, "How long it would take before you started to talk about your bird. Remus had less than five minutes, I guessed that you would wait until we were ready to leave and Peter just said, 'what bird'. Sorry mate!" James then reached into his pocket and handed over two galleons to Remus's winning open hand.
"Sirius, the next round is on me, mate," Remus said with a smirk, pocketing his money.
"Oh, you gits!" Sirius barked, slumping down in his chair defeated. He reached for a peanut and chucked it across the table at Remus.
"Sorry mate, you made it too easy. You never talk about witches, and then when you get a good one, you start opening up. It's just your nature," James excused, patting his friend on the back, trying to win him over.
Sirius nodded, hating to admit it was a good joke on his behalf, but pretended to remain buttoned-lipped about any future "feelings".
"No, Sirius, go on. You seem otherwise befuddled by this witch, go on," Remus suggested, eager to hear Sirius's take on her.
Sirius rested his elbows on the table, his hand still on the handle of his beer mug, "I don't know, it's just that this witch is..."
"Different?" Remus asked, his eyebrow curved and curious.
"Very. I can't place it, but it's nice. It's not a normal formula for me-"
"-We know."
"-We've noticed."
"-No kidding."
All three of them chimed in with their own opinions at the same time that Sirius was almost afraid to continue. He was also afraid that he might take his wand back out and hex one of them if they said something smart again.
"Anyway, I guess I'm asking if...if it's normal...to fall in love with a girl even if you haven't..."
"Shagged her?" Peter chirped, trying to add his two cents.
"Nice, Wormtail," Remus drawled, giving his friend a side glance.
"Well, that too," Sirius added, not totally taking out Peter's answer. It was just that he was finding it difficult to finish his train of thought; his mind was a mental mess. He was truly opening up to his closest mates to an unfamiliar territory that they'd only gone through with James a few years ago. "I just haven't felt like this before and I have to admit that it's so foreign to me that I'm not quite sure what to do with it. It's all very consuming."
James nodded to Sirius, wishing for words of wisdom to come to him but instead he relied on the good old faithful toast, "Well brother, I don't know what we can tell you on that. So, here's what I can do. To Sirius. May he find the right way to go, so that he can finally make sense of his bird."
"Cheers," they said in unison, knocking back most of the contents of their chilling mug.
0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0
She was deep into a sleeping trance, her bed covers tucked under her arm. Her face turned more into the soft pillow as she dreamt deeper and deeper, letting her body take a lighter shape in the bed that she slept in. Feeling as light as a feather, her sanity grounding once more, she barely felt the bed shifting next to her. Her slumber began to lighten, but she did not open her eyes. Soon, she felt an arm snake under hers and hold tightly against a slender body that lay above the covers behind her...
Sirius sunk against her, the outline of her body under the covers his guide. The casing comforter was puckered protectively around her like the wake of an ocean. She was a near perfect sight to observe, wishing that the darker parts of his erotic story told a different tale.
He had removed his boots downstairs so she wouldn't hear him coming up them and his jacket was thrown over the vanity stool. The rest of him was, regrettably, clothed and restrained in denim. But, he was still able to enjoy the sensation of she being spooned close, her back to his chest. His hand curled over hers as he nestled his face into her soft wavy locks that pooled around her head like an angel.
The gentle caressing from his nose and chin around the back of her neck made Hermione rouse just a bit out of a deep slumber. Still not opening her eyes, fearful that her dream would be lost, the only indication that she knew it was Sirius was with a slight tilt of her head to encourage him to keep on feather kissing her exposed neck and shoulder.
The breeze blew in from outside, cooling her skin where he'd just kissed making her shiver. He hugged her tighter, the cotton of the comforter and sheet their only chaperone.
"How did you get in?" she whispered dazed. She still had not completely awoken...
"Your back door was open," he calmly answered.
With a sweet knowing smile, she remembered the doggy-door and whispered, "Liar."
With a deep sigh against her neck, nothing would make him want her more than to have her know what he really was. "You're right," he started, his lips pressed against her skin as he spoke but moved to gently nip her earlobe as he whispered into it, "I'm an Animagus."
Her dream was taking her beyond reality and with fluttering eyelids she just answered, "I know."
Smiling more for himself, Sirius left three more small kisses on her neck before nuzzling his nose into her hair to drift off to her fresh scent of jasmine and midnight air.
0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0
The sun's warm rays basked the room with light by mid-morning. Through the nearby window, two small birds chirped their song in hopes of carrying on a steady conversation. In the distance, a dog could be heard barking from its backyard and that's when the guest in McGonagall's house started to stir.
Hermione turned her face into her pillow, taking in the fresh clean scent of laundered linen. She could remember her enticing dream vividly. Sirius had come inside the house through the doggy door after he had transformed into his Animagus form. He then came up the stairs and slid onto the bed next to her, spooning her tight and close. Not once did he move from holding her, as if she were a favorite pillow one would sometimes hug. He left slow light kisses under her ear and they shared a few sentences between one another. He also confessed his talent, but in her half slumbered state acknowledged that she already knew that.
She loved the smell of him around her, loved the way he delicately held her, and loved the way he felt so real around her body in the middle of the night. Her skin felt so alive, her heart was beating at a strong romantic pace and the way her eyes fluttered as she pictured him in her mind looking at her through his hanging black locks was enough to almost believe that he was real.
Hermione stretched her arms above her head like a large cat that had napped all day on the couch. She yawned wide and closed her eyes in her mental stretch. She pushed the covers off her body and sat up with her feet dangling over the side of the bed. Just as she was about to get up, something caught her eye in her peripheral vision and she glanced over at the vanity table by the door.
Still bundled together, bound by a beautiful black ribbon with silver threading was a deep red bouquet of freshly cut roses. They weren't placed in a vase, not packaged in a box by a florist, but just wild, picked and bound up with a delicate bow. They lay neatly across her table so that she could not miss them. They were so stunning that Hermione's lips parted long enough to believe that perhaps it wasn't a dream. Maybe Sirius was really there lying next to her and then gone before the sun had come up.
Just wow.
That entire afternoon, Hermione stayed in. She glanced up at the clock as it chimed four times, echoing in the hallway with the capacity of Big Ben. Around her she had miscellaneous books and notes, some on the Time Turner journey she was on, some on the aftermath of ripples in time and one very heavy romance novel she felt she needed a little inspiration from. Of course, that was honestly just a guilty pleasure and the idea of anyone having sex on a hilltop with no one to see them was just unheard of. However, the sneaking curiosity of whether or not the logistics of having sex on the back of a motorcycle could ever be achieved plagued her mind whenever she wondered where Sirius was and why he hadn't owled her by now.
Her Quick Quotes Quill hung above her notebooks waiting to dictate, but as her mind began to drift elsewhere, it took the liberty of tickling her nose to put her back on track.
She rubbed her nose immediately, "Okay, okay! Hey, you haven't even been invented yet, so behave. Where was I? Right...it's been proven that a sudden reaction to electricity can-" her voice stopped in mid sentence as she heard a mechanical rumbling coming up the street. It got louder and soon it abruptly stopped in front of her house. She immediately tossed her book to the side, grabbed her Quill to hide it in her bag and stacked some books away as quickly as she could. She knew that engine, she knew those tires stopping and she knew his keys jingling into his pocket.
Hermione flew to the front door, taking a moment to glance in the mirror to give herself a once over. Without hesitation, her heart beating faster, she threw open the door to see him just coming up the steps and taking no time for a greeting. He pushed himself through the threshold and took her face in his hands to come at her like a man that hadn't drank water in days.
Quenching his need for her, he kissed her long, deep and hard and all Hermione could do was let him.
Her arms were beginning to feel as weak as flower stems, hanging to her sides limp like she had no will to move. She managed to muster enough strength to lift her hands to slide up thin leather jacket and grip them as a last defense. She could smell his musty scent of outside air on him from his ride and his feathery long locks tickled her cheeks. Even though she knew in the back of her mind she breaking so many rules...to hell with them. She missed him!
Finally, air was no longer a second thought and she pulled away, still gripping onto his jacket and he still holding her tight in his clutches.
"Where have you been?" she asked with a light voice. Seeing him made her heart flutter without even giving it a second thought. It was inevitable.
"Busy. Ran into an old friend by surprise," he smiled as he looked down at her. He tilted his head back further admire her smiling up at him. It warmed his insides greatly that she was pleased to see him.
"Why didn't you stay this morning? I woke up and you were gone - you were here, right?"
He smiled and nodded, "Yes, of course I was. Why? Did you think-"
"-I thought I had dreamt it," she finished for him.
"Oh, well," he knocked his head back cocky, "I've been known to be quite a dream, they say."
"Oh, there you go again with that modesty."
He sniffed proudly, "A trait I hope to carry on my entire life."
She nodded back, "Oh, don't worry, you will."
He leaned in to kiss her again before finally closing the door with a swift kick of his boot. "Anyway, get your bag. I've got a surprise for us tonight and we've got to stop by my place to get ready."
Hermione glanced down at her notes and saw that her work was hastily scattered all over the coffee table. She went ahead of him into the sitting room, going about closing notebooks and stacking up heavy ancient encyclopedias that Sirius would probably shrug off anyway, but it was the principle of the point that she didn't need any more exposure than what she may have already risked. It was just that morning when she was thinking back of the dream she thought she had, realizing that it had been real, that Sirius had told her he was an Animagus. Her foolish half-asleep reply was that she knew. She needed to be more careful in the next couple of weeks.
"What's the surprise?
"Well, I was cruising through Camden today, that's where I usually buy my band t-shirts, and I heard this awful racket. I asked a few nearby what it was, the muggles of course, and they just told me that The Forum was undergoing some inside repairs. Then I got to thinking, I only know one group that takes over a theatre for a night and then jumbles the owner's memories...The Hobgoblins," he said, expecting a huge reaction by his elaborate storytelling.
Hermione drew a blank, but then remembered reading something about the lead singer, a turnip, and a fan, "Wait, you mean Stubby Boardman's group? But, I thought they-"
"Disbanded, yes!" he said with more enthusiasm. "Stubby was a bit freaked out about that turnip thing, but he's right with it now." He was like a child on Christmas morning telling how he saw Santa Clause. "So, I pulled up and went in."
Hermione wasn't too impressed, but the way he lit up with excitement just elated her. She had no choice but to act surprised, even if the Hobgoblins were before her time.
"Well, Stubby saw me and it was like old times, again."
"You know Stubby Boardman?" she asked, a hand on her hip and a finger pointing as if she believed he was pulling one over on her. She recollected a story in the Daily Prophet about a fan that claimed that Sirius was actually Stubby Boardman and that's why he was innocent of the Potter murders.
"Yes. Now you're impressed aren't you?" he played. Her lack of excitement was a great disappointment at first, until he got to the heart of the issue. "Showed no interest in it until I said I knew him, did ya?" He walked passed her to sit down on the couch, his feet thrown on the coffee table and his arms behind his head looking quite relaxed and arrogant. He was glistening with the knowledge of knowing a celebrity.
Hermione couldn't help but let off a little laugh, enough to see that he really was milking the issue. He was adorable with the way he snubbed his nose at her and pretended to file his nails on his shirt.
"Sirius, really?"
"I do know him, he's an old friend. We used to chase muggle girls together-," he stopped, catching himself. His fingers no longer filing, but his eyes glancing up at her for potential damage control. "I mean, we used to share the same interests!"
Hermione crossed her arms in front of her and nodded knowingly, "Right. So, what's the rest of the story?"
He grinned and winked, "That's for another time. Anyway, Stubby is having a private concert tonight and said that he tried to find me, but I'd moved from my old place - James's - and lost my floo address. He was so chuffed I was riding by that we had a couple of beers and then he dragged my ass to the guest list and made them put my name down with a guest."
"And you're not taking James or Remus?" she baited with a raised eyebrow. She still loved the fact he was trying to look so arrogant, as if he were balancing a crown over his big head.
Sirius scowled, "No way. They don't like that sort of music; it's too hard for them. They're not into that punk scene. But, no, the rule with Stubby is that I'm always on his guest lists, always VIP passes, I can get my mates in, but I must always have a girl with me." He winked again and bit his lip. His boots wiggling excitedly, "Just his rules, not mine."
Hermione slowly grinned as she was getting to the bottom of the plan, "His rules, huh? Okay, well I hate to break it to you, but I'm not really that familiar with the Hobgoblins."
"Not familiar with the Hobgoblins? Where have you been, love, under a rock? They're only the biggest wizarding band of all time," he was utterly shocked that she did not know their music as well. "What do you listen to and if you say Celestina Warbeck then there is no way I'm putting out later."
Hermione went stiff with the very idea, not that it hadn't been on her mind all day that day, especially with the question of the motorbike fantasy, but her cheeks started to blaze.
"Ah, there's my Rose, again!" he said, standing up.
Hermione sensed that he was about to tease her further, enough to back away slowly and consider running out the door. The look in his eye was that of a playful tiger about to spring and she held her arms at bay.
"Am I making you nervous?" he innocently played. The sound of her giggling was enough to bait him more, luring him into her as she backed away cautiously.
"Sirius, stay! Don't come any closer," she playfully threatened. She secretly harbored the tease of the chase, hoping that he would follow her, but her nerves got the best of her and she took off running around into the kitchen where she felt him close on her heels and within his grasp.
"Granger, you can't get away," he barked taking off after her as she aimed for the backdoor he knew too well by the doggy-door installed near the floor.
She screamed with laugher as she managed to get the backdoor open and dashed down the few steps to the secluded garden surrounded with a tall white fence, where wild flowers grew and butterflies made their homes. She glanced behind her when she realized that her space was limited and trying to escape through the backdoor had not been a well thought out plan.
When she reached her dead end, not too far from the backdoor, she turned around and pushed her back against the wooden fence. Her arms were in front of her, a meek attempt to protect her from whatever he was coming in to do. A pathetic attempt at a game gone wrong, but secretly desiring him to just pick her up and ravage her there. At least, that's what those romance novels were encouraging her to wish.
His big grin was mischievous, his eyes a dark twinkle and as he closed the space between them, his hands extended around her to pin her to the fence. He closed her in, pressing her against the wooden fence and with no place to go but back against him. He purposely pressed his belt buckle against her stomach, showing her that she was teasing the wrong man. He'd played her game until now, pinning her defenselessly between a wooden barrier and himself.
"I love the game you want to play, love," he said darkly with a low hungry voice like the Big Bad Wolf. He was tainted with enticement, knowing that his objective was not to really frighten her, but to make his intentions clear. "However, after so long, the mean dog might need to get his just reward."
Hermione's breath escaped her. There was not one piece of her that was scared, only tempted. His aura was so strong; it encompassed her like a steel cell with nowhere to go. His walls were closing in on her and she welcomed it. She welcomed him. The secret desire for him that she was trying to suppress was seeping out like water through cracks in a dam. At first they were contained, governed, but soon the wear on her was beginning to weaken and the slow seduction he had played for her all this time was beginning to win, leaving her in a frazzled emotional mess.
"I love to hear your voice, but I love it even more when I've driven you speechless," he growled, the closeness of his lips teasing her like drugs to a recovering addict. He would come in close to kiss her, but as she went in, he would pull away to tease her, never touching her lips.
"Sirius..." she couldn't say anything more. The air around her was thin and it made her mind spin uncontrollably. The anticipation of a kiss was breaking her down, forcing her to restrain herself from being irrational. However, her need for him was ever increasing.
"I get a warm chill every time you say my name, love," he whispered as if it were a hidden secret only for her. "You emphasize every syllable in all the right places that makes my name sound so perfect, that I only want you to say it. It jives me to a new depth that even I question it." His need for her was beginning to reach dangerous levels.
She was absolutely melting there before him as he pinned her against the wooden fence in the middle of the day with only the flowers and butterflies as their witnesses. How he could make a fall day so erotic was beyond her, but it would make her look forward to this season in the future.
"I love to see your cheeks blush when I flirt with you," he continued. His voice made his words sound like an enchanting spell she could not deflect.
"You are," she started; her voice sounded like a mouse about to sing before clearing her throat. "You have been the only one that's been able to do it."
His alluring lips pulled into a rather pleasing smirk. His eyes darted all over her face as if small sparks were going off in his head that he had finally neared the finishing line of winning his personal challenge with her. Far from the test of his own self-assurance, he had discovered that his old ways of luring a girl weren't exactly the way he should have gone in order to produce such spectacular results. Hidden behind stacks of books, notes and knowledge was a precious jewel in his eye that made him rethink his normal stereotype girl he thought he wanted. Had he known then, what he knew now, he would have looked for girls in the library and not at James's old quidditch after parties.
He moved in slowly and cupped his hands around her neck to keep her still to leave a single, solid kiss against her waiting lips. Keeping it simple and intense, it wasn't necessary to slip his tongue, just a passionate, warm erotic kiss that left the two of them absolutely dazed and wanting.
"Get your things, love," he whispered, nearly out of breath himself. "We have to go."
The Big Bad Wolf was letting Little Red Riding Hood go.
Nodding, she quietly slipped out of his grasp like both of them were absolutely bewildered to do anything else and she left him alone to his thoughts. Both of them needed space, believing they had just wrapped themselves so tightly around one another that it was almost too much for one moment. This was what passion was. This is what literary geniuses wrote about when it came to love and this, sadly, is what people died for. And as far as they got was with a single still kiss.
She was doomed.
In a blink, Hermione ran upstairs to freshen up. She had no idea what to wear for a Hobgoblins concert, hearing Sirius say it was "punk", so she settled on a tank top, hoodie, blue jeans and her Converse trainers. Simple, but basic and not time revealing.
She returned downstairs, swinging around the banister and looking about the sitting room to see if he'd come back inside yet. He had, but he was standing in the little cottage kitchen, hovering over her open book bag. His shoulders had slouched and he appeared to be looking at something he held in his hand.
"Sirius?" she asked warily, her breath shallow. She was worried that he'd seen something he shouldn't have.
In his fingers he had a picture. It must have been something that had fallen out as she was quickly stacking her books. His eyes were transfixed on it, his face was emotionless and far from the passionate animal she saw lingering before her in the back garden.
"Is this him?" he asked, slowly lifting his head and handing her the picture. His voice was sad almost, sorrowful even.
With big eyes and a lump in her throat she couldn't swallow, she hesitantly reached for the picture. Not as bad as she had anticipated, but she now was holding a picture of her standing behind Ron, with her arms draped around his shoulder. A picture taken a few years ago, when they were happier, but it was obviously recognized as a loving couple picture with the way the two laughed and smiled. It must have been being used as a bookmark in one of her books she had overlooked.
Sirius shoved his hands in his pockets and looked away, hoping to lighten his thoughts. He slowly walked passed her, a forlorn look was pasted on his face.
"Ah, yes," she nodded, staring at the picture having not seen it for a long time. She reflected for a moment that the picture was taken in much happier times and this just a mere shadow of it. Still, she tucked it deep down in her bag, not ready to tear it up yet. After all, she and Ron still remained to be friends.
"You look really happy," he said solemnly. There was a hitch in his throat that sounded quite disappointed and let down.
"I was," she added, looking away. How was she to explain it?
He shook his head as he paced a few steps away from her, before turning around. He wondered if he even deserved to feel what he did just a few moments ago. Like his head was just beginning to come above the surface and he could breathe again, he would cherish fleeting moments like the one he just experienced in the back garden of Professor McGonagall's house.
"If I took you away from something good, please tell me. It's not like me - actually, it is like me, but in this case, I don't want it to be."
Hermione stilled, her eyes unable to meet his. She felt like a big spotlight was hovering over her, displaying all her flaws and making her feel so out of place; she could say nothing.
"Sirius, I..." she was unsure how to say exactly what she meant. So, she stuck to the truth, "You didn't take me away from anything. He and I...we separated awhile ago and you...you just helped me see a little bit more clearly."
Hearing what he wanted brought a small bit of peace to mind. Allowing him the strength to look at her and not with guilty eyes. "I hope so, because-"
"But, in truth-" she cut him off.
Her eyes stared nervously at her hands in front of her. Even though she wanted so badly to be with him and enjoy those close intimate moments every chance she got, she couldn't help but let the picture of she and Ron plagued her thoughts. Having nothing to do with their actual relationship that lasted over three years, but allowing it to be a reminder that this was not her time. She was not allowed to feel what she felt towards Sirius, because he was a different man. The same in some aspects, yes, but the very idea of the two of them together now would hurt terribly in the future. How could she allow herself such carnal pleasures now, if in the future, they would have to go about their lives separately? What good would it do if she tasted the forbidden fruit, never to have it again? Would she allow herself such a painful luxury? Knowing what it would be like to fall in love with him, possibly have him love her back and then in the future they go about the house, their lives, knowing what could never be? Who would want to take that gamble?
"But, what, love?" he asked. His voice reminded her that she was still standing there with him, the younger version of him.
"But, I don't think I'm what you're looking for. I'm not who you think I am."
Seeing her mouth falling into the same disappointed frown he first held when he first saw the picture, made him walk back to her. Smelling her perfume was easily luring him back in again, to a frame of mind he had forgotten about for the last few minutes, but was quickly coming back full force. He raised a hand to cradle her cheek and then slid it down around her throat.
"Are you just a figment of my imagination?" he asked, his thumb sliding along her jaw line.
She shook her head as she lifted her eyes to his, "No."
"Are you married?"
"No."
"Are you secretly plotting to tear off all of my clothes?"
Her lips curved into a smile and she had to lie, "No."
"Then you are so very right. You're not at all what I'm looking for."
She needed to fall.
Even if it meant never having it again.