A Note from Serade: This is another chapter that is edited and the uncut version can be read on my LJ (the link is on my bio page for ). I love the long reviews I've been recieving. It keeps me on my toes with your theories. Keep 'em comin. On a side note, I will be at Azkatraz (HP Symposium in San Francisco), as I'll also be hosting a roundtable discussion I've co-written on Sirius/Hermione. If there are any readers here attending, I hope to meet some of you. Thank again! Enjoy. ~SB

Ch. 25

"Come to Realize"

The winds started to pick up outside of number twenty-four. The vine that hugged the wrought iron gate out front fluttered against the elements. More and more these days, the air started to thicken, leaving it moist and overall unsettling. Dark things were occurring behind closed doors, wizards masked themselves in hoods performing tasks, taking lives and building an army.

Ignorance was bliss these days to the ones that were afraid to fight and courage was built on knowledge from those not afraid to attain it. Meetings formed, alliances between neighbors strengthened, but fear weighed heavy on everyone's heart.

However, for the two individuals on the floor of number twenty-four that lay naked in front of the fire under a blanket, the world outside could not touch them.

"Yes love, I remembered," he calmed.

Hermione looked away; her eyes with worry and her face with panic. She was quickly submerged in the memory of all that had already transpired between them. Their confrontation in the hallway must have been his breaking point, meaning if he remembered then, than he had always known. He knew when he came out of the Veil, he knew during the Holidays spent at Grimmauld Place and it must have been nearly traumatizing for him when he first saw her with his own human eyes in the shrieking shack.

Sirius always knew.

"Sweetheart, I've lost you somehow," young Sirius said, rubbing his fingers down her face. "I remembered the precaution, yes. I just happen to know it in Russian, too," he winked.

Her eyes quickly met his as if she was searching for something. She must not have set the Obliviator spell when she left and that's why he remembered everything. Only, her error had caused him far more pain by torturing him with the memory of her, making their interludes haunt him for the rest of his life. He had remembered this moment, right now, lying in front of the fire, their bodies naked and warm against each other, about to commit the most forbidden rule of the Time Turner. How awful it must have felt to go through that, alone even, knowing that in his darkest times, this girl that he knew was not there for him. How painful it must have been to meet this gawky young girl that had no idea, no clue of what they were to become. To look at her with frustrated thoughts of anger for a teenage girl that had no idea about his past, or her future.

What if she was a reason for his brooding? Not entirely so, there was more to life than a broken heart, but what if she had added to the equation that he had to sit around and wait? Wait for what? For her to experience it? For him to finally be able to talk to her about it? For him to ask the questions why? And what about his time spent in Azkaban? Was he waiting for her to visit? Did he wonder, all those years, where she was? And then there was her birthday.

Her twenty-first birthday.

He had probably waited for her birthday for years. Waiting for the time when he could actually talk to her about it and what they had experienced together. Together they held a secret that was beyond comprehension and as she looked back into the young Sirius's eyes, she had to live it. It was all too much to contain.

Hermione kissed him before he could ask her anything, allowing him to dance his tongue romantically with hers. Her head was spinning over everything she was quickly realizing, that she wanted to live. She wanted to experience him, she wanted to feel him and for the love of life, she wanted him to enjoy it. She needed this; she wanted to feel what it was like to be ever so bad. Damage had been done and later it needed to be fixed, but for now, he emitted a sense of history that made him incredibly difficult for her to resist.

"Please, Sirius!" she begged, almost from another voice within.

He growled as he teased his teeth in a tender spot behind her ear, "There you are, love. Thought I'd lost you."

~xXxXxXxX~

Their bodies shuddered against each other, feeling the jolt of the muscles relaxing. Second by second their heartbeats began to subside as their breath was ragged in each others' ear. Small light kisses traced the others' cheek as they quietly relished the unity they shared.

"Well," Hermione whispered as he took in her disheveled appearance, "I'm not going to forget that."

Sirius growled against a kiss on her neck and whispered, "I told you."

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Hermione stirred under the soft covers in a room only as bright as the overcast sky outside. Clouds came in, not quite releasing their fill, but leaving a decent shade to the surrounding neighborhood of number twenty-four. Her arms stretched out across the bed instinctively, testing her space and feeling about. Her sneaking fingers met the edge of the bed on one side and a vacant pillow on the other. Her mind remembered and her eyes opened to her surroundings.

Sirius's bed.

She felt her muscles aching in certain areas. Both relaxed and rather satisfied for the moment. The weight of what had transpired was slowly flooding her. Painful guilt did not feel as bad as anticipated, but somewhere down the line it was apparent she did not cast the Obliviator spell before she left him. Sirius seemed to remember traces and bits from their time together, perhaps even everything.

Hermione stared at the ceiling of his bedroom, noticing the intricate detail of the hanging lanterns from overhead. Rich money decorated his room with expensive furniture that she had not noticed when being seduced up the stairs for the continuation of their romp. She absorbed the energy surrounding her, his smell intoxicated her and without realizing it, tears began to form at the corners of her eyes before streaking down the sides of her face.

She sighed quietly, not quite crying but sad all the same. He had remembered her, her entire life that she knew him growing up, he knew her. He knew what she was capable of, how she kissed, what she felt and what made her tear at his naked flesh more than anything...and she was just thirteen when they first met. She pitied him, the older Sirius, the Sirius from her own time, over all the things he had missed out on. She could only imagine his disappointment when meeting her in the shrieking shack and discovering her secret trip, or the summer they spent together cleaning out Grimmauld Place. How many times did he have to look away knowing that she was to become the woman he knew? Did he learn to secretly resent her? Did he ever wonder why? Did he ever think on it as deeply as she was now?

The sound and smell of sizzling bacon was permeating the house. Not the smell, but the jolly whistling was what brought Hermione down the stairs with slow careful steps as she neared the bottom, in hopes of poking her head around the wall to sneak a peek at Sirius.

His lips were puckered to follow their sound and his hair was messy and shaggy around his bare shoulders. He wore only a pair of thin linen pants low on his hips. Barefoot and shirtless, he flipped pancakes into the air with one hand on the pan while the other hand was poised with his wand making sure the doughy flats went back into the pan. The guilty bacon sizzled on the furthest burner.

"I took the liberty of using your shower," Hermione said, coming into the kitchen. Her hair was still damp.

Tucking his wand in his pants pocket, he turned and smirked, "I'm sorry. I didn't recognize you with clothes on." Hermione licked her lips and looked down at the floor slightly embarrassed. "But then, that's just how I intend on seeing you."

He slid his finger under her chin and raised her face to his. Sliding his hand to her cheek, he kissed her good morning a few dozen times. The last one lingered on long enough Hermione had to remind him of his pancakes still browning.

"Oh! You're right," he said scrambling away, leaving Hermione standing there empty handed as he rushed back over to the stove. She watched as he lifted the pan and tossed the pancakes onto a waiting plate and charmed two strips of bacon to follow. "Madam, your breakfast is ready."

They dined quietly together, glancing out the window occasionally and watching the clouds roll in rather violently now. It drew Sirius's attention, making him ponder in thought as his mind began to work and his brow furrowed. An opened rolled parchment, probably delivered by an owl, lay on the counter.

"So much is happening out there," he said under his breath with a sigh. "But, I meant what I said last night."

Hermione quietly sipped her hot tea and waited for him to continue.

He looked away from the window and held his fork poised to take a bite of pancake that teetered on the end, "You do help me remember what I'm fighting for."

For a moment, her heart sank. The little whisper of guilt started to flutter forward, "Sirius, I-"

"Aside from my friends, no one has helped me realize that before. Even my family doesn't matter that much to me, because their beliefs are so outlandish and prejudice that I truly have learned to hate them." He spoke so freely; his fork scraped along his plate as he ate and talked. "It's because of people like them that make it hard to live these days. So much so, that we can't even go out without worrying."

Hermione's mind was turning a thousand times a second, wanting so badly to stop this whirlwind now. Though he spoke to her about dark times, times she knew too well complete with his own cousin torturing her at the Malfoy estate, and it all was becoming too clear. However, though he discussed it all in seriousness, she could not for the life of her stop staring at him. Such beautiful tanned skin, deep hypnotic eyes and the sharp well defined features of a long aristocratic bloodline. He was royalty, no matter how much he tried to denounce it and as he spoke, the conclusion rang loud in her mind that he was beautiful both inside and out.

"...so, I won't be able to stay home today."

"I'm sorry, what?" Hermione had lost herself briefly daydreaming; she hadn't heard what he had said to her.

"I said, I've got some business to do, so I won't be able to stay shacked up with you today," he winked. He noticed her staring at him. "I'll make sure you get home safe and then I'll see you tonight, that all right?"

At first, Hermione wanted to nip this in the bud and not do anything with him again, that would render her powerless like the night before, no matter how pleasurable it was. Though she believed she went through the actions for generous reasons, there was no doubt that deep down being with him made it a selfish sacrifice. After all, he was becoming harder to resist.

"Fine," she nodded, not inquiring about his business. She only assumed it was related to the Order and for that, she wouldn't ask. She must not interrupt his course any more than she had.

Sirius drove her home on the back of his motorcycle. Her body was pressed tight against him and her arms held on firmly. He drove faster than usual that afternoon, having felt a strong premonition that things were getting more and more heated. Not between them, but beyond them and around them. She was muggleborn, she was in his life and for any of his family to believe he had any kind of soft spot for her put her at much greater risk. He needed her safe and secure and behind safe walls. He had no doubt that McGonagall had secured these measures.

The familiar street came into view and Sirius cruised along the row of little houses and right into the front garden. He cut the engine as she swung her leg off, reaching into his bottomless saddlebag for her own backpack. Walking to her door, neither one said a word, for they made this feel like it was second nature.

"Get your keys out, love," Sirius instructed, not letting her out of his sight so that he knew she was safe inside.

Blindly, she reached around in her bag looking for her keys. Her fingertips grazed the chain of her Time Turner that lay at the bottom of her bag; a dull reminder that time was running out for them.

"Please be careful today, Sirius," she said looking upon him. She all of a sudden felt the urge to hug him close, almost motherly, wishing him to be safe.

"I'll be fine, but do me a favor and just stay in today. Don't go anywhere, don't go to the bookstore, just stay in." There was a sense of promise in his voice and overall concern. He sounded like he wasn't quite saying what he was feeling, but only that he was uncertain of the events about to transpire in the near future.

"Please don't make me promise you that, I've got things to do myself-"

"Please, Hermione. I don't want to have to worry today, so please promise me that you'll stay in your Aunt's house today? Send owls, read books, watch muggle TV, just don't leave."

Finally, she let out an unceremonious sigh, "All right. But, pray that I've got ink for my quills in there."

"Thank you," he nodded, relieved that she would do what he requested.

A soft finger slid down her cheek and with a second to think, he kissed her to say good-bye and turned on his heel to leave. Dropping her eyes, she shoved her shoulder against the door and stepped through, not wanting to see him leave. Hear him she would, but every time she saw him ride off on his motorcycle was a reminder of one more day closer to his condemned time.

Sirius tore himself away as well, wishing that he could stay with her that day. His heart couldn't help but beat a little quicker when he'd think of her, or how he added an extra skip in his step on the way back to his motorcycle. But, as he reached for his keys in his pockets, he was left feeling unsatisfied and turned directly around and back towards the front door.

"Hermione," he called, pushing open the door just as it reached it catch to close. His boots clicked hard on the wooden floor as he took two steps in, reached out just to see her turning around and pulled her in for a much needed kiss that would meet his momentary needs.

The door slammed shut with a fierce kick from his boot. The sound echoed loudly in the foyer where they stood.

She was barely given a second before she felt his familiar strong hands grab her waist and tug her towards him so that he could kiss her properly. Releasing a small murmur at first, his touch was soothing again and she melted against him with the willpower of peanut butter to a jelly sandwich.

It was so easy kissing Sirius, that within seconds she forget everything that was surrounding them and she started to imagine it being the older more mature Sirius with his soft velvet threads, laugh lines around his eyes and the aura of a man with stories holding her. Her eyes fell shut, almost into a deep dream state and her hands slid easily around his neck. Together their bodies met, swaying slightly, getting lost in their own oblivion.

As his lips slid over hers with ease, his strong hands held her close to protect her. Her mind went traveling, budding along into the territory she was getting too close to. Deep admiration and obvious affection for this man was no longer denied, for she had felt things with him she never thought her body could feel and for that...she was falling. Or had she already fallen? Could it be that she was in love with him, just by sealing this kiss? Or was it what he did to her the night before that confirmed it? Had he seduced her to believe this, or was she already convinced that he merely lit the fuse to her inevitable explosion.

Whatever it was, it was good. It was heartfelt and he was being received by her with open arms and an open heart.

But what about when she went home? Could they continue where they left off? Would he even have her? She was twenty-one and her Sirius was thirty-seven. Was that too much for him to handle, because for her she would be content. Sirius was the kind of man she needed: mature, intelligent, street smart and most of all responsible.

Well, at least he's intelligent and street smart.

Hermione's mind paused and physically, she pulled away from their kiss, hoping to see his face. Gorgeous grey eyes looked back at her, full of expression and passion, it was a shame she hadn't realized this sooner. He had the potential of being an incredibly loving man, if given the chance.

His hold was deathly tight and he whispered, "Thank you for last night, love. It was so intense." He just wanted to hug her, hold her and keep her to him that it surprised even him over this unnatural reaction.

Her cheek warmed, but she was silent to hear any and all that he was saying. She would have done anything at that point, just to hear him say her name in his voice that was so comforting it was like finally finding your way home after a long journey. She laid her head down to listen to the steady beat of his heart; her eyes falling closed to imagine another moment between them.

"I really don't think I want you to go," she whispered, mostly to hear herself say it. The realization was getting deeper and deeper.

"I'll come back to you tonight," he whispered into her ear as he left small feather-like kisses along her temple. "Just please, stay inside."

Hermione murmured something of an answer that was satisfying enough, but was slightly unwilling to let him go. These newfound feelings for him were both comforting and complex. Torn deep inside, there wasn't anything she wanted more in that minute than to feel him close against her, whispering things in her ear and asking her if she liked what he was doing to her. The way he spoke, the way he walked, the way he held his chin high and proud and defiant made her just yearn for him more and at the same time, send a sinking feeling into her gut that this was all wrong.

All of it was wrong.