Chapter 33-Nothing but ash in the wind
When they arrive at her father's house, her childhood home it is as if she never left. Pictures of her and her parents, her as a child are plastered on the walls. She wonders if they knew that she was not their child, she wonders how they could have kept such a secret.
The stone pathway is the same and it is as if time hasn't touched this place, but her bedroom is in shambles. Clothing lay strewn on the floor, papers and ink topples on her desk. Someone had been looking for something, the weight of the time turner seemed to leaden on her chest; they hadn't found it.
It isn't until Sirius speaks, his finger grazing through a layer of dust that the spell breaks.
"Is there anything you need to take" she aches to take photos and books and anything and everything at all. But all she takes is a locket that belonged to her grandmother, a photo of Harry and Ron, and a bottle of whiskey; another her, another life. She exits the home without another glance.
She starts the fire, but allows Sirius to finish the job. She can't bear to watch this last piece of Hermione Granger burn. She doesn't have to look to know her history, is nothing but ash in the wind.
When Sirius and Maxima return they drink whiskey. Not the wizarding kind, the kind her father drank, muggle, that burns her throat on its way down.
She trembles at the thought and feels herself slide to a seated position on the floor. Her father. Dead for his relation to her. Even if he had lived, he wouldn't recognize her now. Not for her face nor for the things she had done that had blackened her soul.
"Maxima?" Sirius asks, unsure. The glass shatters under her grip. Waves of grief, loss crash onto her. It is too much, too much broken that she doesn't know how she can ever hope to fix such things. She touches her face, and the unfamiliar bone structure fills her with disgust. Who had she become? She takes a long sip from the bottle and breathes in the pain of the burn.
The room pulsed, vibrating with energy, magic. With her, the tight reins she kept on her magic lay loosened. She was accurately aware of him, so close to her, and his magic that almost touched hers. Tethered together for better or worse.
"Tell me a story," she asks him and he sighs running a hand through his untamed curls. He takes a swig from the bottle before handing it back to her. The substance wet his lips.
With a slight movement of his wand, he removes the shard of glass. "The first time I met Maxima potter, was in a bookstore." She swallowed her breath catching, she hadn't been prepared for this story.
"She swore at my mother, who of course hated her, but from that moment I-" he hesitated to look up from his drink into her blue eyes. "I suppose you could say I was transfixed". He smiles in a private way that she knows isn't for her.
"Did you love him, Fred?" He asks and she pauses from sipping the drink, the more she drank the less it burned.
"I fancied him, but it wasn't what I imagine love to be" she spoke, drink coating her words in truth. It was true she had wanted him, but even in her books desire and love had always been separate things. Fred, had been lovely, but a far cry from love.
"What do you imagine love you be, Kitten" Sirius asks her, and suddenly the room feels warm, and she can count the inches between them. She raises an eyebrow at the pet name, "It's powerful, all-consuming" she speaks looking in his eyes, and she is transfixed.
"it is both burning and tender" she speaks her head heavy with the influence of the drink.
He says something that she doesn't hear, and she can feel the alcohol coursing through her veins and a warmth that spreads to her core from having his gaze exclusively on her.
His gaze lowers to her lips and she can't breathe lest she break this moment. He finishes another swing from the bottle not breaking eye contact and moves towards her.
"You look ravishing," he tells her, and she can barely stand the heat of his gaze. It felt so wrong to have him look at her like that, but she couldn't resist him. Not when he looked at her like that.
"You are letting the alcohol talk," she says her voice coming out in a raw whisper. She knows the words are weak but is surprised by his reaction.
"This has nothing to do with the fucking whiskey" he curses, his voice rough and powerful, a hand grazing her shoulder.
"And if you don't stop looking at me like that, I will devour you" he whispers, his voice husky as he moves closer. His hand trails up her arm, up her neck to brush against her lips and Maxima has to keep from moaning at the touch. Her body reacted instantly to his touch.
"Is that a promise?" she asks hoping it doesn't come off as desperate as she thinks. If it does, he does not care because he captures her lips in a searing kiss. He pins her against the wall of the stairs hoisting her as she wraps her legs around him.
He kisses her neck, lavishly, and drags his teeth through her lip. He unravels her legs from his torso to remove her trousers and she desperate for the feeling of his skin and removes his shirt roughly.
He takes in a breath sharply as her hands touch his bare torso, she notes the scars and tattoos that cover his body.
He kisses her neck and bites into the soft flesh between her collarbone and neck. She moans, audibly. She knew the bite would leave a mark.
He pulls his face back to grin at her, "next time my name kitten" he whispers before taking her against the wall. He is gentler this time, his fingers working the bundle of nerves to ensure her pleasure. By the end, she screams his name twice.
She knows this is not love, they are too broken, too many pieces shattered to be mended but it is enough. He pulls her out of the darkness. And it is enough.