Their first fight.
Hermione was washing the dishes by hand, and Sirius was standing at the doorway with a scowl as he leaned on the frame. She was stiff, and her jaw was locked while his eyes were narrowed.
"I just don't see the problem," she finally huffed.
"What do you mean you don't see the problem?" He snapped and waved his hand.
Hermione dried her hands and put them on her hips as she turned. "You and Ron should go out," she suggested.
"Don't give me that ballocks!" Sirius snarled. "You were snide when you suggested I was going to go shag some witch. If you have something to say it, then say it. I don't like this shit, Hermione."
"I don't care," Hermione brushed it off and walked from the room.
Sirius felt the sour rejection she had been leading up to for the last hour. It wasn't fair. What the bloody fuck was he supposed to respond to this. Somehow this edgy, frigid witch stood in place of the woman in his arms last night. Rewind.
The animagus stopped by Andromeda's for tea. He chatted at length about his primordial moving plans. After, he came home and decided to try his hand at writing, which started to get sappy, so he put it away. Soon after Hermione came into the flat, Sirius had ordered them pizza. A nice change. It was Thursday, and they were going to have pizza, ales and watch stupid films until they were tired. That was the plan.
Her attitude from the moment she walked in was confrontational. Sirius wasn't sure what the witch experienced at work, but it was enough to set her on edge. He's dealt with moodiness on an outward front from his friends and even himself. However, the forgiveness factor went out the door when she slid into a conversation about changing their weekend plans.
"I don't see how you can just blow this off when I'm upset," Sirius expressed as he went into the sitting room.
Hermione tilted her head and stared up at him. "How could you be upset? I only suggested that you and Ron should go let off a little steam instead of us spending Friday night together. It isn't a big deal, and you should want to do those things."
Sirius breathed through his nose. "I know what you're doing, and I don't fucking like it," he retorted.
"Well, I'm sorry, but I already agreed to go to this concert with Pansy," Hermione puffed and crossed her legs over the sofa.
Her entire posture and body language declared, 'stay away from me.' It was a ridiculous attempt at best to keep others away. Attitude, piss poor reception, and a sneer. Sirius tightened his lips. "I thought we weren't going to lie to each other anymore."
"What do you want to hear, Sirius?" Hermione sighed.
Sirius stepped toward and ducked down. "The truth would be nice."
Hermione's top lip quivered as she glared at him. "I want to go out and forget Hermione Granger for a while, and I don't need you. You don't want to know the things I'd like to do to someone strange in the sheets."
If Sirius weren't planted, it would have blown him to the ground. He sat on the floor and set his arms on his knees, scrubbing his face. He knew this play. He'd done it many times with young witches. This was pure manipulation—a hurtful one.
"I know what you're doing, and I'm verbally letting you know, you're killing me a little, love," Sirius grumbled through his fingers. "We just talked about this."
Hermione glanced away from him, keeping her icy posture. "I don't know what you mean."
"Damnit, Hermione!" Sirius hissed as he glared at her.
She grimaced and met his eyes. "I can't be normal, Sirius. Please stop trying to do this," she murmured.
"Do what?" he voiced.
"Stop trying to take me on dates and make me feel normal," Hermione said as her ice melted to a pathetic pout. "I don't need pity, and we both know this would never work."
"Where is this coming from? I've never once made this more than what it is," Sirius whispered as he dropped his hands hanging from his knees.
Hermione pulled her knees closer to her chest and shuddered a breath. "George stopped by to see me today and talk with me. He asked me about the weekend, and I told him. He then asked what we do during the week, and I told him. He suggested that you were fancying taking this to a relationship level."
Sirius groaned and rested his back against the leg of the table. "So, this is about someone suggesting I wanted something from you that you're afraid you can't give?"
Hermione gestured to the room. "What is it then? You want to buy a house and have me move with you. You want us to go spend the night under the stars tomorrow. Sirius, if that isn't dating, what is it?"
Sirius blinked and knew he didn't have an answer. He had fallen into this routine and adored the shit out of the unavailable witch. It was just natural to be this way because he didn't know any other way to show his love. This was his normal. He never would ask for more than she was capable of giving.
"Is that so wrong?" He finally asked.
"Yes, Sirius," Hermione breathed.
He scowled and shook his head. "I'm not scared of you, Hermione. I stayed with you last night through the whole episode, didn't I? When we talked about my mother, you held me until I was grounded. Isn't that what this is about? I thought we agreed we would do this, no destination agreed on."
She winced and grabbed her hair. "Stop, just stop this, Sirius! Let me rot because that's all I can afford! I'm not worth the damn space you're investing your time in!" She cried as the tears breached her eyes.
He blinked, and for a split second, he saw himself. Sitting in the corner of the dormitory after coming back from holiday. His mother had shamed him into the ground for three weeks. This was built into her core of self-shaming for years. It brought a deep emotion to his chest as he moved to the sofa.
"You're not cold," he said while looking at the bookcases.
Hermione cried harder. "Stop it, just stop."
"You're not unlovable," he murmured and held out his hand, still not looking at her.
She was gripping her hair and shaking as she blocked him with her curls. "Please," she whimpered.
"You're not ugly," Sirius breathed and moved his hand closer to her.
She shook and wept as a full breakdown was tearing through her.
"And you're not worthless," he sighed.
Hermione flung her body at him, and he embraced her. She shook against him as she cried, and he held her. "I don't know what you experienced, but this isn't who you are, no matter how much you say it is," he murmured and rubbed her back. "I know who you are, which is why I'm still here."
"Why don't you just run away?" she sobbed. "I'm going to hurt you too."
Sirius breathed and shook his head. "No, love. If I survived Moony, then I sure as fuck can survive you. If I survived my own destructive behavior, you're cake. This is a walk in the park because you're fucking lovable. I adore the shit out of you, and you don't even have to do anything extraordinary. Oh, look, she's reading in my sweater… my heart skips a beat."
Hermione pulled from him and stared at him with her makeup stained face. "This isn't normal."
He chuckled and raised his eyebrow. "I'm not really interested in normal. Come on, love. We shagged while in transfigured disguises to forget who we were for an escape. Do you think I could be capable of normal? Why would we want to try to be normal? We have more than that to offer."
"You do," Hermione sighed as she looked away.
Sirius coaxed her eyes back to him with a touch of his fingers. "You do as well. I don't want normal. I want you, Hermione. For all the moments you think are flawed and the moments in between. Since I saw you walking barefoot into my second chance at life. You told me I needed to make new experiences for my lost memories. This is one that I want, regardless of where it leads. I don't need anything more from you than just to be existent in your space."
Hermione's lips peeled apart as she touched his face like a timid animal. She analyzed him with the strangest expression that was a mixture of shock and doubt. How could he not love her? No matter how far she led him down the rabbit hole, she, without knowing, mended old wounds through his acknowledgment.
"You want me?" She asked finally.
He didn't answer. Sirius pulled her in for a kiss and ran his fingers through her locks. She was a beautiful mess, but then again, so was he. Why wouldn't you want someone who knew what it was like and identifies him under all the shields? He saw her as well.
She sighed and wrapped her arms around his shoulders as she straddled his lap. He pulled her shirt off through their coupling and worked on her bra. It wasn't planned, nor did he think that a breakdown would lead to such heightened feelings. He just needed her. She needed him too. It was the equality he had never met with a woman.
Hermione carefully pulled at his shirt as her bra fell loose around her arms. Sirius growled as he yanked at his t-shirt, tossing it to the ground when they parted, breathing and examining each other.
She was fucking perfect. Sirius blinked, and his lips parted, and his chest rose and fell with swift rhythm. The curse scars splayed across her arms and stomach. The natural curve of her breasts. Everything.
Her face was an echo of his. They were bare in so many ways. She licked her lips and climbed from his lap. "Can we get cleaned up and climb into bed?"
Sirius smiled and stood next to her. "Yeah, I'd like that. But clothing is optional," he winked.
Hermione cleared some of the smudged makeup from her cheeks and beamed. "I'm not shagging you tonight, Sirius."
"Oh, that's completely fair as long as I can touch," he smirked and caressed her shoulder.
Hermione snorted with a grin as she picked up their clothes. "I couldn't stop you if you tried."
"Well, you could, but you won't. You like how much I look too much. You want to touch too," he declared as he followed her into the bedroom.
While they were embraced in a mess of flesh and feelings, Sirius thought. She was sleeping and had her hand over his heart. He knew it would be some time until she would want physical intimacy beyond this. This was an intensity neither of them knew they each had. Fingers on flesh telling each other stories without words.
He didn't care. He didn't care if it wasn't anyone else's normal. This was his, and he was pretty sure this was hers. As her fingers ran over the scar his mother gave him when she said he would be better off dead… she knew, and he knew in their own way, love would find a way. He smiled and kissed her forehead before sleep was his friend.