A note from Lady Serade: It took a little bit of time to reformat a sequel for REASON FOR LIFE. I am not usually too quick to write as sequel, for I like to try out different avenues and twists. So, because I put a poll on my LiveJournal, most wanted me to continue for part II for this story. Granted, I still have another one in mind behind this one, but for now, we'll see how long this goes. I cannot promise another 33 chapters, but it might still get up there. I enjoy writing it, as long as there are still fans for the Hermione/Sirius ship. See you at Infinitus (for those that are attending!). Enjoy! -LS
Perchance to Dream (sequel to REASON FOR LIFE)
Ch. 1 - A Slow Beginning
The beginning of the new week was slightly overcast. The air was humid. The clouds overhead were thick with moisture waiting for any moment to tear open and release its vengeance on muggles that had forgotten to bring umbrellas along with them on their morning commute.
Hidden beyond abandoned buildings, the Ministry of Magic was unlocking its doors for their own Monday morning commuters. Weary-eyed wizards in formal robes and witches holding handbags walked briskly through the corridors, Apparating from various fireplaces along the path that brought them there from their homes. Windows along the underground city were lighting sporadically as occupants entered their offices around the four story long winking banner of the Minster of Magic, Kingsley Shacklebolt.
The last fireplace on the end lit up with green flames and a pretty brunette wearing a tan A-line skirt and white buttoned down shirt walked out unscathed. Her hair was pulled back in a tight bun, make-up was lightly applied and her shoes clicked firmly on the tile floor towards the set of elevators, falling in with the rest of the morning commuters. She went to stand in the back, her head down and clutching her messenger bag casually.
The elevator screeched and jolted, indicating that it was on the move between requested floors. Enchanted department memos were already flying in to hover overhead as the doors opened to let workers of the Ministry off. The requested floor for the Department of Mysteries was the last one the elevator went too, leaving Hermione the only passenger in the cab to step off and duck under some low flying memos. The hallway before her seemed long, longer than usual, as she found herself taking a little more time than usual to get to the double doors waiting for her at the end. The sound of her clicking shoes echoed off the metal walls around her, practically vibrating in her head as a reminder that she was at work.
She pushed through the double doors, bracing herself for whatever came her way, but today of all days, nothing could change her mood. She was elated, on cloud nine and in a private new world that hardly anyone knew about. Well, maybe a select few knew the history.
Hermione passed a set of windows that looked into a laboratory with both scientific instruments and odd magical machines that helped them decipher some answers they were looking for. Vials of memories, samples, specimens, ingredients, and odd oozing liquid decorated the shelves around the sterile room. She went into the second set of doors that emptied into a break room with shelves and closets for personal things, along with a partial kitchen, complete with a muggle coffee maker they had uncovered a year earlier.
"Well look who's back from her emergency vacation," said a high pitched female voice. Hermione smiled slowly and turned around to see Isa and Sean, a blonde witch in her late thirties and a balding wizard in his late twenties, sitting at a small circular table and clutching to cups of tea in their palms. Their faces were smirked, heads tilted and curious as all hell to where she had gone. "Care to enlighten those that you left behind?" Isa's voice was light humored and intrigued by the girl that never took a break.
"I'm sorry, guys," Hermione started as she hung up her bag on a waiting hook and then reached for her white lab coat that hung beside it. She followed their lead and walked over to make a cup of tea. She didn't plan on telling them much. "I just really needed a break."
"So, where did you go?" said the effeminate Sean. He was ready for gossip, if he could get any.
"Hawaii," she sighed. "Wanted to see some sunshine, lie on the beach, just relax, you know?"
"Just you?" Isa asked, she believe there was more to it. "Or, did you go with that ginger you used to date?"
"His name is Ron, and no he didn't come with me."
"So, are you going to tell us anything, or is it going to remain a mystery? Sorry Hermione, it was just odd of you to just run off with hardly any notice. We were fine without you, though we're glad you're back, Isa and I just had a great time making stories up where you went."
"I didn't go alone," Hermione whispered, dipping her tea bag gently into her cup. Her lips curved into a smile, thinking about her time on the beach with a particularly handsome older wizard wearing jeans and no shirt, walking along the shoreline of the island.
"Hermione, we have unanswered questions and there are metal tools with probes that we are not afraid to use if you don't start talking," Isa said with her strong German accent. The two conspired against her and watched her carefully like two kids about to be told the legend of Father Christmas.
She smiled sweetly, hiding her rose colored cheeks from prying eyes and nodded slowly. Some things she would keep to herself and some things she wanted to scream from the rooftops, but as she recalled her happy homecoming two weeks before her "two week emergency vacation", there were still some things that made the butterflies in her stomach erupt all over again, like they did when she was in nineteen eighty-one.
She turned to her audience of two and shook her head. "It's all very simple," she paused, "I met somebody."
0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0
Number twelve Grimmauld Place was once a beacon of pride, arrogance and assumed royalty. The windows had since been replaced from the countless cracks, trees hanging around the structure had been cut back, the inside interiors had been completely refreshed and now standing in the foyer where an old grandfather clock struck, were two people that already had a lifetime together and now stood before a future unknown.
Deep in Sirius's heart, emotions he hadn't felt in nearly fifteen years (well, twenty if you add the blank years he was in the Veil) resurfaced for the young witch he held in his hands. As he pulled away to press their foreheads together to just listen to the peaceful stillness around them, he thought back fondly of first meeting her when he was twenty-one. He was a young man then, an arrogant aristocrat that had a knack for breaking all the rules set by his family blood and dying to fight for the greater good and live like each day was his last. He made a promise in the first war with the Order of the Phoenix alongside his best friend James Potter and a special vow to his wife Lily to protect their son Harry in the event of an untimely result.
Sadly, things could not be changed when Hermione went back to nineteen eighty-one with the Time Turner. The future had already been determined in the world that she lived in; Sirius had been destined to go to Azkaban without a trial for the murders of James and Lily Potter and Peter Pettigrew. She was not allowed to change the timeline, no matter what the outcome. Instead, she risked a great deal by "accidentally" getting involved with Sirius, confessing her love and receiving it in return. Rules that accompany the Time Turner were gambled, thus resulting in many long years of a believed death, prolonged romance and the fear of rejection once she returned to the Sirius she had grown up with.
Hermione's fingers slowly ran along the lapel of the chocolate colored jacket he wore. The blue shirt he wore beneath it was buttoned to the top, except for the first one where she was able to see a little of his Azkaban barcode tattoo on his neck. He smelled better than she remembered with rich cologne. The warmth of his hands around her neck gave her peace and satisfaction that he was letting her in again, even after all these years without her in this capacity.
"I can tell you everything, now," she said in a meek voice. Her heart was pounding strong.
He never wanted to close his eyes, fearful that his dream would be gone. He felt that if he looked away, even just for a second, she would disappear like mist at his fingertips. Still, he mustered the inner strength to push on to where they needed to be to start off fresh.
He kissed her forehead and said, "Let's go have a cup of tea...and talk." His voice was calm, at ease and with perfect volume, it was like he was finally getting exactly what he wanted.
She nodded and fell against his chest, following and letting him lead her down the hallway to the kitchen. She slid her hand into his like she always did and he took it slowly, interlacing their fingers together like he was discovering an old habit again.
"This is going to take some getting used to, again," he said as he looked down at their hands together.
Hermione smiled and said, "Take all the time you need."
He sat her down at the head of the table and fixed her a cup of tea while glancing over his shoulder every few seconds to make sure she was still there. His own cup was still on the table where he left it so abruptly the second he heard her call his name, but as he joined her at the table and lifted the forgotten cup to his lips, it was still warm.
Being with Hermione again, with this renewed feeling, was almost too surreal to comprehend. His eyes watched nearly every move she made, worried that it was another dream from so many years ago. Though he was only sitting next to her at the corner of the table, he didn't think he was close enough. He laid his free hand on the table, open for her to set hers in his and as their skin touched, it was like they were back in another time, again. She was just as beautiful, just as hopeful and her eyes showed nothing of doubt for him. The way she sat, the way she watched, the way she licked her lips, were all confirmation that she was really there and wanting to be there with him.
"We're really going to do this?" he asked, finally speaking for the first time since they were in the kitchen.
"I'm game," she said with a slight smirk. "I can't just turn any of this off, Sirius. I can't come back here and not be in love with you."
"And I don't really think that after holding onto you for so long, that I could either."
It warmed her heart to a new degree and she bit her lip as she looked away; her cheeks blushed pink.
His eyes couldn't leave her, even just for a second to glance out the window to a perched bird. He was drawn to her with an invisible magic that was too overpowering. "But, just for my sake, let me start over," he said, squeezing her hand in his. "I've had a lot of time to prepare for whatever end result, so allow me to bask in whatever joy can come out of this-"
"Whatever joy? Sirius, I'm with you. I'm ready to take any road, but I'm not leaving you. We've been through so much in such a little time, you've waited for me all these years, and we deserve each other." She put down her tea and used both hands to hold his. She leaned over the table, her hair falling before her shoulders in a romantic fashion.
"I am-" his voice choked for a moment and he closed his eyes to compose himself before continuing. "I am very glad you're saying all of this, because it's what I've wanted to hear, since I saw you in the shack."
The sound of Hermione's chair scraped across the floor and she was up and sitting on Sirius's lap within seconds. She wanted to be close to him, she wanted him to know that she was staying with him and taking on whatever life threw at them. She threw out all manners and straddled his lap, her arms resting around his shoulders so that she could look down into his beautiful grey eyes.
"Then, let's waste no more time."
"And do what?" he teased, an eyebrow quirked. For a moment, he was a shadow of the old Sirius, the younger Sirius sneaking out. The side of his mouth twitched for a second over the friction of her on his lap.
Hermione paused and tilted her head to the side like a puppy hearing a sound for the first time. She slowly grinned back with an air of flirt in her voice, "You're going to play games, already? Please tell me that hasn't been your grand scheme for when I got back. Tell me you had other things planned."
"I have other things planned," he humored. "I've also decided that in order to protect you, I'm withstanding from any intimate activity with you for at least two weeks"
"Two weeks? How is that protecting me?" she asked with a perked eyebrow.
"I need to make sure this is what you want. I don't think-"
"This is what I want!"
"I don't think I could live with myself knowing that after all this wait, you decide its best to be friends and I...well...I'd already tasted the forbidden fruit, to put it plainly."
"Oh, Sirius," she whispered. His name was heaven on her lips to him.
"I'd rather not know, than have to remember. I have done so well trying to remember, that if after all this time it doesn't end the way I have hoped, I'd rather not know what I was missing. Does that make any sense?" His words were clear, but they still sounded too constructed. His wants and needs and not-knowing were getting in the way of trying to rebuild what had been gone for so long.
Hermione nodded slowly, understanding the underlining meaning to his case, "It makes sense." She kissed him briefly, holding his lips to hers longer. "But, I'm not going to make the next two weeks easy on you."
He pushed their foreheads together, his hands running up and down her ribs, allowing his fingers to catch on her shirt, "Believe me, you're already making the issue hard enough as it is."
Her grin matched his creeping one and they shared their private moment together, reveling in each other as they sat in the ancient kitchen surrounded by memories.
"You met somebody?" Isa and Sean said in unison, their eyes wide with shock.
Hermione grinned, but her eyes did not give her away as she stared into the steaming contents of her cup. She remained where she was, leaning against the counter where the modern coffee pot and toaster were plugged in. She dared not step any closer to the open claws of her gossiping co-workers that were chomping at the bit for juicy news to spread.
"Hermione Granger, you better start talking, or else I'm going to make some stuff up. Or better yet, I'll call your friend Harry Potter, there. I'm sure he's got some gossip to share." Sean tried to leverage something, anything, hoping for a bone, but he came up dry as soon as Isa spoke.
"Empty threats, Sean," Isa droned. "You know Potter would never spill anything on his precious, Hermione. Those two are like glue. He'd never dish on her."
Hermione smiled broadly again, knowing that what she kept was a real jewel, "Well, he might on this one."
"That's it, what's his Floo address?"
The clock ticked its steady pace in the foyer by the front door. Portraits on the wall started to settle in for their early night, but before they could, they traveled between frames, peering into various rooms about Grimmauld Place, looking for the topics of conversation.
In the sitting room decorated in warm furnishings of an antiqued chandelier, a proud mantle depicting pictures of happy memories of Harry's maturity and good friends, a well stocked bar and under the wide picture window decorated in heavy curtains positioned a large sofa with velvet cushions where Sirius and Hermione sat.
Her body leaned on its side, her legs were tucked under and her head rested against the back of the couch. She gazed heavenly at him, watching his lips as he spoke. Her hand was covered with his as it rested between them where the sofa cushions split.
"Are you really here with me?" he asked. His feet were propped on the ottoman in front of him as he shared her relaxed ease; his head rested against the back of the couch while looking at her. "It wasn't but this morning that we were platonic friends and now..." She only smiled. "I've loved you for so long; I cannot begin to tell you the torture I went through when you were thirteen." His voice was quiet, almost desperate, like his soul was confessing its deepest, darkest, angriest secrets to her and with nothing but adoring sympathy, she watched him carefully. "I believed you first to be dead, then I briefly imagined you being your own daughter, but it was Remus who helped me through it all." He squeezed his eyes shut, like he was trying to see the pictures he'd set before him. "Then, it all made sense," he opened his eyes for her. With his free hand, he reached out to run his fingers down the side of her face, cherishing his living dream. "I knew that one day I'd have to face the reality that you were not going to come back to me."
"And yet, here I sit."
Their conversation would go in and out, allowing silence to bring them closer together. Never once did Sirius look away, fearful that his mind was playing tricks on him and he could no longer decipher what was dream and what was reality. Especially when it was something he dwelled on for so long.
Finally, her eyes drifted closed. Her steady breath indicated that she had fallen asleep while sitting there with him on the couch, listening to stories and just talking together for the first time in a long time for him. For at least another half hour, he watched her sleep there next to him. His hand never left hers and his fingers continued to lightly caress the back of her hand. It appeared that all her traveling had finally caught up to her and it was time for her body and mind to rest after a long day's journey through time.
Sirius was careful not to disturb her as he slowly got up off the couch. Having already removed his jacket, he thought about laying it over her as a blanket, but decided she deserved a proper night's sleep. He lifted her very carefully, holding her tightly to him with his arms under her knees and behind her back. He took her up the stairs and down the hallway to her own bedroom. As gently as placing flower petals on thorns, he placed her into the comfortable confines of her bed. He pulled the covers up to her shoulders and watched as she settled in on her own, turning halfway into the pillow her head met.
Gazing for a lasting picture, he leaned over to place a kiss on her forehead, when she stirred enough to realize that he was leaving. She murmured something inaudible and reached out to the empty space next to her.
"Don't leave. Stay," she whispered, barely opening her eyes. Her hand patted to the pillow next to her.
A strong surge began to settle in his stomach, like an empty hole was being filled. He had no reservations to lying next to her, but this was almost more than he could handle on the first day. Still, he had no reason to run for the young twenty-something deep within was jumping about anxiously, despite his mental forewarnings.
He removed his shoes, loosened the cuffs and collar of his shirt and climbed on the bed next to her, remaining above the covers. Her routine took over and she snuggled closer, pining for him to take her in. Like another old habit beginning to surface, he held her close, draping an arm over her waist and closed his eyes to dream away next to her.
Outside the window to Hermione's bedroom, three perched birds rustled their feathers and took flight, joining their friends in formation to travel to the warmer south. Their jostling on the branch scraped across the glass of the window, causing its occupants to stir awake just as their eyelids met the overcast sunlight trying its hardest to seep through.
Hermione's eyes fluttered as she realized that the day had begun and she wasn't already up. She thought briefly of work, but thought of sending an owl when she went down for morning tea. The pressing issue at hand, who was still pretending to sleep, was more important and he needed her attention at home.
She smiled as his eyelids tried to remain closed for just a second longer. His face was handsome with a few age lines telling his stories of heartbreak and solitude. She longed to make him happy, to help him forget a past that he had to endure wrongly.
"Sirius...time to wake up," she whispered gently; her finger tips traced the contours of his face.
He didn't open his eyes, but he grumbled, "No, go back to sleep...too early."
Her gentle fingers slid to the side of his face where she rested her palm against his cheek and leaned in to kiss him awake. His response was good and he kissed her back submitting to her will. She slipped her tongue between his lips, encouraging him to push against her harder when his hands slid tightly around her. Her arms slinked around his shoulders and with little effort rolled onto her back as he pressed on top of her. Carefully shifting his weight, he eased himself onto her as his hands felt every curve of her body. He teased himself with pressing against her thigh so that she might understand what she did to him, but he refrained.
He kissed her lips, her cheek and then buried himself into her neck where his name was whispered into his ear with a volume of quiet passion. Quickly discovering that it was getting harder and harder to stop his train of desire he tempted himself with, he regrettably pulled away to see her practically trembling in his arms. However, it was a good tremble. She looked up to him hopeful, desperately wanting him to continue on the path they were on, but it was the look of desperation on his face that she knew she could not tempt. The second he stopped abruptly, it was like a small spark in his mind shocking him to remember what he had promised the day before.
Their breath was ragged and desperate together, like they'd sprinted in a marathon and had been given and early finish line. Passion welled up between them; no doubt what they were capable of.
"I wish you could feel the butterflies in my stomach, right now," Hermione whispered, breaking their silence. She reached for his hand and placed it against her chest, "Can you feel how fast my heart is beating?"
Never breaking her stare, he turned her hand onto his own chest and said, "Can you feel my heart beating? It beats because of you."
Her face cringed with his sincerity, wishing she could take away their time apart. It was almost too unfair to believe she hadn't missed a blink, but he had missed so many more years.
They found their way downstairs after showers and feeling refreshed to start their day together after a morning tea. They entered the kitchen laughing, holding hands and being greeted by the other occupant of the house.
"Good morning," Remus said as he turned to the much changed scene. He had his reservations at first, but saw the smile on her face and the intimacy of their hands and he knew that things had gone swimmingly.
"Remus!" Hermione said with a thrill. She hurried over to him and threw her arms around his neck, holding him close and welcoming his warm embrace. While pulling away she exclaimed, "You knew! You always knew!"
He chuckled in their embrace, "I knew, but I shouldn't have said anything to you back then. I broke the rules with you, so I guess we're even."
"Whatever you say," she smiled. "Thank you, by the way."
"For what?"
"Just, thank you and I'm sorry."
"Sorry, for what?" Remus asked, just releasing Hermione to let her fix some tea.
"Hermione, just stop. She's talking about James and Lily," Sirius solemnly said to him.
"Oh, well that," Remus said with a sadder tone, thinking back on the issue, "we've learned to deal with it. There was nothing-" he caught himself from breaking. "There was nothing you were allowed to do at the time."
"That's what I told her." Sirius took a seat at the wooden table, waiting for his tea. He took note that it was being prepared for him when he noticed Hermione take down an extra cup.
"Right," said Remus, shaking his head and not trying to dwell on it too much. "It seems that you two are okay? I had my doubts, I'll be honest, because I know how Sirius can get." There was a tinge of highness in his voice taking a quick jab to his friend, but his thoughts fell on Hermione again. He walked over to her and dipped his head, "Are you alright?"
Hermione nodded to her friend and said, "I am and he's getting there. We're going to be great."
"You're going to have to speak up, otherwise I can't eavesdrop," Sirius said, leaning back in his chair.
"Good to hear," he nodded and waved to the couple, "I just popped in for a moment to make sure the house was still standing. I'm off to break the news to Tonks; she was chomping at the bit wanting to know why I was so anxious last night. She blamed it on the cycles, but I told her it wasn't about me."
"Wait a minute, she was there, Remus. Doesn't she know? Doesn't she remember?" Hermione asked, spinning around and still holding a spoon in her hand.
"Well, she was there, yes, but she doesn't remember. I sort of took the liberty of using a memory charm on her when she was a little girl, in the event she saw you somewhere down the line." Remus shrugged his guilt and gave a friendly smile to both his friends and he was out the kitchen door and out of the house.
Hermione gazed off in the distance as the insistent questions flew at her. Still, she did not budge, nor did she sit down. Her co-workers were pining for information, a treat, a morsel, just something to let them spread it like wildfire and oh, it was a juicy.
"Hermione, I've worked with you for two years and this is groundbreaking news for you. So, what's he like?" Isa asked Hermione, folding her legs and letting her lab coat open between her knees. She rested back, preparing for a good story.
"Well, the normal sort. Black shoulder length hair, about five--nine, tattoos, your age Isa-"
"He's older than you? Hermione, this is really out of your mold, dear," Sean said with a flick of his wrist. "What does he do?"
"He's sort of between jobs, now," Hermione mused, more for herself than for them.
"He's unemployed?" Isa unfolded her legs and the heel of her shoes clicked hard on the floor. "Oh, girl, dump him. Forget it. Mystery getaway or not, he's a freeloader."
"No," Hermione said quietly, "he's not. He's been around, been alone for far too long."
"It sounds to me like you're already in love with this guy," Sean said, as if worried and about to alert the authorities.
Hermione nodded, "Oh, absolutely. Have been for quite awhile. Longer than I thought."
"Hermione, take it from someone who knows: get out now. Unless he's rich and famous, there's no reason to be with him."
She shrugged and walked to the door leading out to the hallway, she turned to face her co-workers and said, "Who's to say he's not rich and famous? Or shall I say, infamous?"
0o0o0o0o0o0o0o00o0o0o0o0o
The sun was slowly sinking down into the horizon after a long day spent meandering around central London. One by one, streetlamps were coming on automatically to illuminate the roadways and sidewalks. Critters of all kinds began to creep their way from the darkness that harbored them during the day.
Walking along Regent Street together, Sirius carried a couple of shopping bags of things they'd picked up on their outing. Hermione held his hand tightly, interlacing their fingers over and over again, squeezing every few seconds to remind them that they really were there together. She hung on his arm like an ornament, the side of her cheek resting against his shoulder and her free hand wrapping around his upper arm feeling the expensive fabric of his corduroy jacket. She could hear the jingle of his pocket watch as they walked in tandem.
"I truly feel like we've not skipped a beat," she said, her cheek still resting against his shoulder. "Well, at least for me."
He nodded and turned to lay a kiss upon her head, "We've been apart for far too long."
"Then let me do whatever I can to make it up to you," she whispered, her eyes closing as they walked, taking in the rhythm they shared as their shoes clicked together on the pavement.
"You don't have to do anything, my love. Let me do what I can to help you adjust to the different me."
"You're not much different," she said lifting her head up to glance at him. "More like, improved. You're older, but I kind of like the idea of you growing out of your childish antics. I think I much prefer this man," she smiled for him, flirting subtly. "I know some things have changed, but there's not anything I couldn't live without."
"Oh, I'm sure you'll find some things, eventually," he mused, stopping her before they walked the crosswalk. Muggles around them went about their business, listening to their iPods and making general chit chat with their company.
Her mind started turning like a hamster wheel and before they walked across the road, she turned to take his hand into hers. She faced him seriously and momentarily scanned the faces of those that passed them. "Let's get something very clear. I've come back from a life changing experience. Some of the things I did were wrong-"
"-some of the things?" he interrupted with a lopsided grin.
"Virtually, everything having to do with you went to absolute shit, but that's neither here nor there," her eyes pleaded with him to hear how serious she was about to be. "I'm not proud of it, but the night before I left, the night before you went to Azkaban...I almost erased it all." She swallowed before continuing, "I had my wand to your temple, ready to change your memories to have you never have met me."
Sirius swallowed, his eyes dark and concerned, his brow furrowed, "Hermione."
"All the time I was with you, at your house, kissing you, laughing with you, the Sunday nights, those were all wrong. I never should have gone back and I never should have gotten involved in your life the way I did. I carry so much guilt from the night I left, the night I saw you ride off, that I wish I had erased your memories."
"Then, why didn't you?" he whispered, shaking his head slowly to understand. He could see the fragile state she was putting herself into.
"Because, I was selfish. I was selfish to believe that you would still be here, to believe that you would want me, after you found out my secret. I weighed it out over and over to see if what you needed was happiness, even for a little while. I knew you were going to go to Azkaban and it just killed me inside to know that you were going to set off and think of me and I didn't even belong in your time. I did nothing-"
Sirius hushed her as she started a slow silent cry. She turned away, unable to look at him as she composed herself. She had confessed more in one day, than she had planned to over the course of several months. His voice was soothing to her ears and he released his hand from her tight hold to lay it on her cheek to wipe her tears away.
With a few things off her chest, she felt somewhat lighter. The emotions were still bundling tight within her, but the wound was still fresh from leaving him to ride off to waiting authorities. The vision of him sitting on his motorcycle, glancing back to tell her he loved her replayed over and over in her memory, for it was only a few nights early. A lifetime had passed and there he stood before her: rescued and breathing. She reached out to touch his chest, to feel his heart beating strong.
"You saved me three different times in three different ways, Hermione. You're the reason I stand here, now." She shook her head, but let him raise her chin to see him. "I'm so very glad that you didn't erase my memories of you, otherwise what would I have to live for?"
"You've got Harry," she whispered back. Several muggles walked passed them as they remained on the sidewalk together.
"I've got Harry and I would die for Harry," he said quiet and convincing. "Now, I have you and if I didn't know about you, I'd just be that perverted uncle-like friend that would watch you from afar, anytime you came around him. Believe me, it's much better this way." She smiled as tears started to slowly cascade down her cheek, reflecting the half moon in the moisture. "You sacrificed a lot for me, Hermione. Over the years, I've learned to realize that."