Sorry for the slow update. Been travelling. Lovely to get home to this little alternative universe.
Love, Kia
After the four men had left, Sirius flooed Harry and asked him and Ginny over for dinner. A brief moment he considered asking Ron and Lavender, but couldn't. Hermione didn't seem to harbour any ill feelings against Ron, but Sirius himself couldn't see himself having dinner with a man he knew had touched her. And cheated on her. And Hermione seemed to feel belittled compared to Lavender.
Nonsense! Lavender is a bimbo in comparison.
He cooked and brought up two bottles of wine, before he realized only Harry and himself would drink alcohol. And did Hermione want to share their baby news with anyone? Did Harry, and Ginny for that matter, even know about Sirius and Hermione's changed relationship? The young couple had been away most of the summer. How would they react? Suddenly Sirius felt old again. Hidden away in a world populated by only himself and that incredible witch of his, he didn't think about the age difference, but if someone were to have objections it would be people of Hermione's age. Her closest friends. Friends she'd shared secrets with. Harry, whom she shared almost everything with. He still felt jealous when he thought about how easy they always had seemed together. And he knew why.
I can't have these thoughts! I'll go mad! I won't even be able to enjoy Quidditch, without wanting Krum to perish in the most violent accident.
She's having your baby.
Yeah, but I'm still…
And she loves your lovemaking. No one else's.
Fair enough. I need her now.
He let the stew simmer and went in search of his wife. The mere thought of her turned him on. The library door was still closed and not even his canine hearing could pick up any scribbling of quill against parchment.
Time for a brake then, love?
But his hopes crumpled at the sight of Hermione sleeping over the desk. A stack of neatly written parchments lay at her left elbow, and the lid of the inkpot was screwed on. She rested on her forearms in what looked like the most uncomfortable position. Sirius tried to pick her up carefully, but she woke up.
"I know of a few enjoyable things to do on my desk, but sleeping on it is not included," he mumbled into her hair.
"I'm just so tired," Hermione complained. "It feels as if I can sleep all the time."
"Then maybe you should," Sirius suggested when she'd curled up on the couch. "Look, I've asked Harry and Ginny over. Are you up to that?"
Hermione yawned.
"Of course. There is nothing wrong with me, I'm just tired."
"Do you think we should… I mean, are you going to tell them? About this?" He stroked her stomach and leaned in to inhale her. Hermione drew her fingers through his hair, and he felt an urge to cancel on Harry and just stay with his head in her lap, pressed to her stomach for the rest of the evening.
"No. Not yet. It's something about twelve weeks, bad luck telling anyone before that."
"But you're not superstitious, love."
"No, but still… And perhaps we should let Harry get used to the idea of you and me, before we add another person to the crowd."
Another person. The three of us here.
"You are right. You are always right. Do you think Harry will be OK with us?"
"Why wouldn't he be?"
"Well, he might feel… I don't know, freaked out. I'm almost his father, you're almost his sister. Ugh, I'm freaked out now."
"Hush. I'm not Harry's sister, I'm his friend. And you were far too irresponsible when Harry was young to be that kind of father figure. Don't fret. I think Harry wants us both happy. He'll come around."
Sirius turned to lie on his back, still with his head in Hermione's lap. He took her left hand and rubbed her rings softly. Totally relaxed she leaned back.
"Hermione?"
"Mm."
"How do you feel about… money?"
"Eh? What do you mean? In general? Good to have. Difficult to shop without."
"Well, no. About… my money. About all the bloody, probably cursed gold in my vault. About the fact that I wouldn't be able to spend all my money in 200 years, even if I tried."
She chuckled.
"Discussed Child Support with your guests?"
He marvelled over how she could see right through him. Always. He filled her in, and told her how uneasy Remus had made him feel when reprimanding him about his 'it's only money' comment.
"Oh, Sirius. No one thinks you are uncaring or unsympathetic just because you don't have to worry about money. Once perhaps, people like Molly and Arthur would have had problems seeing the true you behind the title, the benefits, the fortune, but after the war… If something good came out of the war, it would be the ability to see other values than money. Everyone in the Order knows you'd support any project or family financially if needed. And right now, playing double at the poker table on Sunday evenings, your fortune comes in handy, doesn't it?"
Sirius evaluated her words. He decided to leave 'it's only money' for Sunday evenings.
"Hermione?"
"Mm?"
"How do you personally feel about my money?"
She made slow patterns with her fingertips on his chest and he stilled her hand to be able to keep focus.
"It's your money. It has nothing to do with me."
"But it has. We are married. You can have half of it. You can have all of it."
"But I don't want it. I have my own money. Spoil me occasionally, and support Remus and Tonks if they are going to refuse the Child Support. When are Harry and Ginny coming?"
"Any minute. Rise and shine, my sleeping beauty."
"Oh, muggle reference!"
"What?"
"Never mind."
Despite her previous words, Sirius noticed Hermione creating some space between them, once Harry and Ginny had arrived. Or, perhaps more correctly, Hermione stole Ginny away to talk about the latter's pregnancy.
"Butterbeer?" Sirius asked Harry.
"Perhaps something stronger?" his godson asked. "I'm trying to be supportive when I'm with Ginny who can't drink, but I could do with some wine."
"Certainly." Sirius uncorked one of the bottles of red he'd brought from the cellar, and wondered briefly how Hermione would decline a glass to her meal later. They all knew she liked red wine.
"I'm really happy for you, Harry. Cheers. Is everything all right with the baby? I understand Ginny was furious for missing her chance in the World Cup."
Harry chuckled.
"Furious? That's putting it mildly. She'll be back on her broom before the baby is a week old. And all her emotions, fury included, are blown out of proportion. Pregnancy hormones are worse than an Hungarian Horntail with a toothache."
Yes, I know.
"Oh, really. You brought down Voldemort, Harry. Are you saying…"
"Some days I'd rather face Voldemort on an Hungarian Horntail. No, I'm not serious, but I'm living in a strange world right now. But I wouldn't change it."
Sirius smiled, biting his tongue. Harry continued.
"But I've heard I should be happy for you too. For both of you."
Sirius hesitated before he met his godson's eyes.
"Are you OK with that, Harry? Hermione and me?"
Harry met his gaze with an expression Sirius couldn't decipher.
"At first, I didn't know what to think about this forced marriage. Hermione's and my situations were so different from each other. But I trusted you, I mean, I trust you and I was grateful for what you were prepared to do. When Luna let it slip that you… well, that your marriage wasn't as much of a convenience marriage as we'd thought I was a bit shocked, but now… I am happy for both of you."
Sirius chuckled.
"You know, when I saw Luna the last time, this marriage was still an act. That witch sees a lot more than the rest of us."
Harry agreed.
Ginny and Hermione entered the kitchen and they all sat down to eat. The topic of conversation was to the larger part about Quidditch. Romania had beaten, actually crushed England in the finals, something Ginny swore never would have happened if Harry hadn't made her pregnant.
"It wasn't really non-consent," Harry protested and blushed.
"No, but still. If you hadn't said anything I would have played anyway. I could have evaded mother's questions until after the World Cup, but the minute she turned to you, you gave it away without saying a word."
"I wouldn't have let you play, even if your mother wouldn't have known. Not when you're having a baby. What if something would have happened?"
"It wouldn't," Ginny assured him. "I'm smaller and quicker than any of the other players in any of the national teams. I would have caught the Snitch, while we were ahead."
Hermione laughed listening to her stubborn friend. Sirius thought that he felt exactly like Harry. He too would like to keep his pregnant love safe, preferably with him all the time. Not at Hogwarts. He sat opposite her, toed off his shoes and caught her calf with his foot. She gave him a smile and distractedly played footsie with him under the table. It wasn't like the heated foreplay he'd pulled a couple of weeks before in the garden, during the Order meeting, but more of an affirmance that he had her in his mind all the time.
Hermione proposed a toast to Ginny's next six month under supervision, hoping she wouldn't maim anyone, especially not Harry.
"Oh, you'll see what it's like when you become pregnant," Ginny muttered and promised she'd tried to 'be good.'
The evening passed pleasantly. When Harry and Ginny said their good byes in the hall, Sirius reached for Hermione and pulled her against him, with her back to his chest. She didn't object, and he felt relieved. They hadn't showed affection in public before, but Harry and Ginny both seemed OK with their relationship.
On the other hand, as long as I'm Lord Black once a week, we should keep it down. Never know who might be watching.
When the door closed, Sirius turned Hermione around and caressed her face with his hands.
"One day I want everyone to see that you are truly my wife."
"One day everyone will," she answered simply and kissed him softly.
"How are you feeling? Still tired?"
"More like I'd give my left arm for a glass of that wine you and Harry drank. Do you think they noticed I didn't have any?"
"No. And, no, you can't have any. Maybe I can think of a way of distracting you?" he said and ghosted his breath along her neck.
She chuckled.
"You can try."
The next morning Sirius didn't have to ask his "How are you feeling?-question." He had just prepared a breakfast tray when her heard Hermione sprinting to the upstairs bathroom and be violently sick.
Oh, no. Is this also part of the 'bliss'?
He found her in a heap on the bathroom floor, white as a sheet and unwilling to leave the cold tiles.
"The room spins when I move," she whimpered. "Oh, this is worse that anything I've ever…"
The rest of her words went down the drain.
Sirius rubbed his face, in concern, worry and at loss what to do.
"Can I get you anything, love? A cup of tea? Some toast?"
Her answer was, again, directed elsewhere that at him. He flushed the lavatory and squatted behind her. Her skin was clammy and cold, and he went in search of a blanket. When he came back, she leaned against the wall, looking pretty much as ill as he'd felt the first time he came home from the Cantankerous. She also looked as she was falling asleep. Carefully he picked her up and carried her back to the bed.
"Need anything?" he whispered.
"Water. A bucket?"
He accioed a glass of water and went downstairs to see if he could find her other required object. When he came back she was asleep. He sat down at the foot end of her bed, touching her leg softly. She was warmer now.
Is it supposed to be this violent? She was all right yesterday.
