Chapter 41: It Rivets Pop Rivets

Hermione had a list written up by the next morning. There were shops that dealt in magical provisions for household design and maintenance, but Remus, hearing Sirius's interest the previous night, had warned them off making themselves too visible in the Wizarding world. Sirius had sat, almost irrationally disgruntled for a moment before Hermione had told him Muggle ones would probably have everything he was after. He was only looking for paint, varnish, sandpaper…

'What's a paint roller?' Sirius asked as Hermione ran through the list at the breakfast table.

'A… thing that rolls paint onto walls.'

'I'm sure there's a spell for that.'

'Do you know it?'

Sirius sat, thoughtful for a brief moment.

'No,' he said. 'But I can charm a paintbrush to paint for me. You reckon we need the paint roller?'

'Erm…' Hermione watched Sirius. He was very animated. Were she not looking at the surfeit of energy in him, she wouldn't have thought the man could get any more energetic. 'Well… it makes the paint on the walls… flat. Without brushstrokes.'

Sirius nodded.

'We'll get it then.'

'Sirius,' Hermione said slowly, casting her eyes along the list, 'do you have money for all this?'

'I have loads of money. An entire vault of it – more than I have any idea what to do with.'

'I meant,' Hermione clarified, 'Muggle money?'

Sirius dug around in his pocket. He came up with a very Muggle-looking black leather wallet and handed it to her.

'Is that enough?' he asked.

Apprehensive about looking through his wallet, Hermione opened it all the same. It was absolutely packed with notes. Hermione leafed through them, thinking she may never have seen this much Muggle money in one place before.

'Sirius… You must have thousands of pounds here!'

'So it's enough?'

'It's… much more than enough.'

Looking satisfied, Sirius took his wallet back and shoved it into his pocket.

'I wasn't sure,' he said, lighting a cigarette. 'I've never bought Muggle house-painting stuff, so I just grabbed a bunch of the paper. Money has changed a lot. You know you used to be able to buy a wand for two galleons? And cigarettes are much more expensive. I think they've about tripled in price.'

As intelligent as Sirius was, the market forces Hermione tried to explain to him seemed to go right over his head. Though, that may be because he was itching for Hermione to finish her tea so they could leave.

He'd woken happy – very happy. And then, no more than a couple minutes after Hermione had opened her eyes, had bounded out of bed, eager to get started on his new house-renovation project. He seemed to have gained enthusiasm for it overnight. It had just been an idea the night before… as he'd held Hermione beside him and watched her with crinkled eyes…

Hermione swallowed a mouthful of tea and found all it did was warm the fluttering in her chest.

'This hardware shop you know,' she said, setting her tea down, 'it's within my walking distance, right? Not… the walking distance you can do when running around as a dog?'

'Mm…' Sirius blew smoke up toward the vaulted kitchen ceiling. 'Yes,' he answered. 'Maybe… twenty minutes on two feet.'

As opposed to four. At the pace Sirius's enthusiasm would have him running at.

Someone came into the house upstairs. Not Harry, he was on watch again. He'd grumbled to them about it, leaving the kitchen as Hermione and Sirius had entered for breakfast. A minute later, Tonks came pattering down into the kitchen.

She smiled a greeting at them, looking tired but bright in jeans and a pink t-shirt with the words "Live it Up!" printed boldly across much larger breasts than Hermione could ever hope for. Her hair was a fantastic shade of strawberry, seemingly to clash with her t-shirt.

'Nice day outside!' she told them. 'It'll be a not-rainy or windy walk to this shop.'

'You're coming?' Hermione said.

'Un-ha,' confirmed Tonks. She snagged herself a breakfast sausage from the table and bit into it. 'How does he get them to stay warm like that?' she asked when she'd swallowed the first bite, looking toward the currently empty cooking area where Kreacher was often to be found. 'It's amazing! My keep-warm charms only last a few minutes!'

Hermione tried to stamp down her disappointment. Silly as it made her feel, she'd been looking forward to a walk outside with just Sirius. Sirius didn't look too impressed either. Hermione spotted his frown and felt the little bubble they'd been living in for no more than a day burst. It was far easier to feel close to him when they were alone.

'We don't need an escort,' Sirius said.

Tonks dumped herself into a seat.

'Then you shouldn't have told Remus you two were planning on gallivanting about, out in the open broad daylight,' she said. 'He got all worried.'

'I go out,' Sirius deadpanned, 'into broad daylight at least every second day.'

'Yeah,' said Tonks, 'but not the both of you at once. And not visible – or in human form. Not off your guard.' She eyed Sirius's scowl. 'I'm not backing down,' she added. 'And only partially because I don't want to go back home and have to deal with a Remus that's gone all silent and disgruntled. You two are the ones Umbridge has most targeted. Ever thought why – or what it'd be like without you two? Harry and Ron,' Tonks said, pointing her sausage at Hermione, 'would lose their minds if anything happened to you, and we'd all die on the doorstep if you were gone, Sirius.

'So,' Tonks concluded, 'I'm going. Probably it's unnecessary, sure, but it'll make Remus happy. He loves you quite a bit, Sirius-mate. And I need you to look after him at full moon. Plus, I need to get out the house and go somewhere that's not a watch. I love my son to bits, but he spends every day trying to make me lose my mind.'

It didn't seem a point worth arguing. Sirius's ire calmed a little as Hermione finished her tea and gave him the list to check over. It was long, but he didn't comment on any of the other items on it. He just handed it back to Hermione with a, 'Sure, I trust you.'

It made Hermione smile.

'You should tell Kreacher to keep an eye out for Yaxley while we're gone,' Tonks said as they left the kitchen. 'Just in case someone's watching the house and he tries to enter it once we leave.'

'No one's watching the house,' Sirius grumbled, but he called Kreacher all the same. The elf took the request – and Sirius did word it as a request – with a nod.

'Kreacher will keep the house safe,' the elf said seriously.

'No –' Sirius frowned at him. 'Just… watch it. Listen out for the Caterwauling Charm. You don't need to fight anyone.'

Kreacher gave him a bulge-eyed stare.

'Kreacher,' he repeated, 'will keep the house safe.'

'Disapparate,' Sirius argued, 'and tell Remus if anyone comes in. Don't stay here.'

Kreacher drew himself up. He took a moment, then bowed.

'Kreacher must agree,' he muttered under his breath, headed hunch-backed for the kitchen. 'So Kreacher will flee. But Kreacher will take all their notes with him. Kreacher knows they do not want those seen. They are dangerous notes.'

Sirius shot Hermione a startled look.

'He won't do anything with them,' Hermione told him. 'He'll keep them safe.'

The door swung open just then, and Molly hustled into the house.

'Oh – good!' She said, breathless. 'You're still here. I worried I'd miss you!'

'You're coming too?' Sirius asked flatly.

Molly didn't need to be told where they were headed. Sometime in the past twelve hours the mundane story that they were headed to a shop had made its way through the Order to the Weasleys. She nodded, wiggling the bunched waist of her floral dress down a little. It looked like it had fit better at some prior point in Molly's life.

'Arthur wants me to find him something called a fooze box.' She looked to Hermione. 'He wanted to come himself, but couldn't get out of work. Traffic lights are setting off sparks all over Essex. They're sparking green when they should be red. It's causing… what was it? Road rage. He just Flooed me – wanted me to come instead. He said you'd know what he was after.'

'A… fuse box?' Hermione said.

'Ah – yes,' Molly nodded. 'A feuze box. That sounds right.'

'The whole box?' Hermione asked, confused, as they filed out onto the front steps. 'Wired? Or… just the box? Does he want fuses in it, or just a place to put his fuses?'

Molly had no answers. The peculiar troupe set off along very normal Muggle streets.

'Would he be happy with a circuit breaker panel?' Hermione asked, walking beside Molly. 'I'm not sure how easy it is to buy fuse boxes anymore… They've been superseded…'

'Oh, I have no idea,' Molly said, tossing her hands in the air. 'Just something he can tinker with in that garage of his. I've never understood the man! He can spend hours in there – just tinkering with things – it's not as though he does anything practical with them!'

Surprisingly, only Sirius attracted attention on the streets of London – this being despite Tonks and Molly (an odd pair what with the one's hair and the other's dated dress) staring curiously into every second shop they passed and remarking loudly on rolling advertisement boards, video game selections, mobile telephone displays, and, more confusedly, at fast food takeout shops: both standing under golden arches and staring in at late breakfasters.

'They give their orders and get a number,' Sirius informed them as Hermione chivvied the two women along. 'The food is always ready, but there's quite a wide selection. They just seem to pack it up from a bunch of shelves.'

He turned to lead the pack once again. A woman pushing a pram treated him to an open look of interest for a full five seconds, but Sirius didn't seem to notice.

'I think it's supposed to be efficient,' he continued. 'It'd make sense. Without magic they'd need to find some efficiencies.'

Molly and Tonks considered that interestedly.

For all Sirius paid the passing women who eyed him no mind, he didn't pay Hermione much mind either. Or, well, he'd look around every few minutes to check they were all still there, following him, but he didn't reach out for her. Hermione hadn't thought he would show her open affection with witnesses, but her lack of expectation didn't stop her feeling sore. Didn't help her avoid wondering… well, just how interested he really was in her. He still looked happy, just… disinterested in her.

And, from the number of women who were interested in him… Hermione scowled at one particularly beautiful woman coming out of a bakery who'd looked Sirius up and down. He could have anyone he wanted, really. Hermione tried to find some satisfaction in Sirius walking right past the beautiful woman without so much as a glance. He was responding to something Molly had commented to him.

'Sexy men have it all,' Tonks grumbled to Hermione.

Hermione shot her a surprised look. Apparently, she hadn't been the only one watching Sirius.

'Don't try to tell me you weren't looking,' Tonks said in a conspiratorial undertone.

'You… erm…'

'Yeah,' Tonks said, 'I know, he's my uncle. It's weird, don't call me up on it. But I am right, aren't I? And you can say it without it being weird.'

She waved a hand toward Sirius.

'He doesn't need to try,' Tonks groused. 'It's infuriating! You know how I look sexy?' Tonks mimed shredding at what seemed to be her groin, legs, and underarms, making the ripping noises under her breath. She followed that with a hair… fluffing? Then the imitation of a lot of stuff getting plastered on her face. 'That's how!' Tonks muttered. 'Hours! Of mowing, painting, plucking, and a big – ' she gestured to her breasts, as though her hands were a bra very capable of sending them skyward. 'If I want to look like myself and be sexy. And all he does,' she gave Sirius a pointed look, 'is pull on jeans and go swishing around London.'

Hermione cleared her throat. She cast a look around them, hoping no one else had seen Tonks do that.

'He's your first cousin once removed.'

Tonks shrugged.

'I still called him "Uncle Siri" as a child.'

That was weird. Hermione could not deny that.

'He… erm… spends a lot of time running as a dog.'

'Oh yeah,' Tonks grumbled. 'But does he have to shave his crotch?'

No… Sirius did not do that. Hermione kept her lips pinched tightly shut. If she wasn't a colour brighter than Tonks's hair she'd be very surprised. Sirius… actually had less pubic hair than Hermione did – naturally. Finer and shorter, though… darker. The image didn't do much to get rid of the intensely hot flush around Hermione's face and chest.

Thankfully, Tonks didn't move on to commenting on the nice backside Hermione had admired here and there as they walked. She was too distracted by Hermione's blush.

'Oh, you do agree!' Tonks laughed.

Hermione sought a deflection.

'You're very pretty without all…' Hermione indicated Tonks's un-self-conscious hands. 'That.'

'Well, thank you!' Tonks laughed. 'But, if you notice,' she looked around herself, 'none of the chaps out here seem to think so. I reckon men can tell when you've had a baby. They completely lose interest after that.'

'You… have a very, erm… loving husband.'

'Yeah,' Tonks agreed. 'He doesn't mind at all. But then, it's his baby. And he was there when I was the size of a house and couldn't get out of a chair, so this,' she gestured at herself, 'is actually an improvement. And he does say he likes it, more often than he used to – though I do think that's just because he's gotten better at actually saying he thinks I'm attractive.' Tonks gave the air before her a little smile. 'He's a good one, Remus.'

Hermione glanced at the colourful woman. Tonks was pretty – Hermione hadn't been lying. She didn't look anything like the Black side of her family, but she had a degree of buoyant energy not too far off Sirius's. A similar ability to say things without much reservation. But rather than a tall and dark sexiness, loping along like a person who'd find it hardly more difficult to climb a building than walk beside one, Tonks was rounder; sweeter and, at first look, more approachable. And, even only a few months on from having a baby, Tonks had curves Hermione envied.

Curves she envied more when an even larger-breasted woman sashayed around Sirius up ahead. Hermione didn't think he'd looked… But maybe… Didn't men usually prefer that?

They reached the shop earlier than Hermione expected. Sirius's estimation had been correct, though, considering they hadn't expected to be towing Tonks and Molly along, he obviously thought Hermione was a slow walker. She stopped by him in an aisle with a deep-seated annoyance Sirius was oblivious to.

'What's this do?' he asked her, squeezed between the trolley Tonks was pushing (with exuberance) and the tall metal rack of hardware stuff. He held out a tool with two rubber-coated metal handles and a barrel protruding from the top.

This one Hermione did know. Sirius had asked her about a good number of things since they'd entered the shop. A leaf blower, a mower, an edger, a hedge trimmer… now they were in a non-gardening aisle, and it was the first odd tool he'd dangled in front of Hermione's face she could name. As a child, she'd riveted quite a few of her father's pop rivets before he'd noticed she'd found them and had worked out how to use them in the tool.

'It's a pop riveter,' Hermione answered. She didn't wait for Sirius's question to give him the explanation. 'It rivets pop rivets. They're little tube things that expand at the end to secure things together.'

It blows leaves… it mows grass… it edges grass… it trims hedges… Somehow the fascination Sirius had squeezing the pop-riveter didn't get old. They found a plastic container of pop rivets and Sirius dumped both items in the trolley. So they were adding pop rivets and their riveter – things they didn't need – to the list. At least Sirius hadn't stuck a mower in the trolley – for the grass his house didn't have.

Even her father, Hermione thought, following on along the aisle, had almost never used his pop-riveter – and he couldn't cast sticking charms.

Surrounded by two curious witches and one easily distracted wizard, Hermione found herself doing most of the work. She apologised to a man Tonks had run the trolley into, and loaded a large bottle of drain cleaner – for the troll's leg umbrella stand – into the trolley with the painting supplies, sandpaper, wallpaper stripping fluid, plaster, and putty with associated knives. Sirius probably wouldn't even notice the addition of drain cleaner. He'd probably just assume he'd dumped it in there out of curiosity.

Hardware shops, Hermione thought irritably, trying to pick a floor varnish, hadn't ever been places she was interested in knowing what to do with. She may well tell herself gender roles were stupid, but it seemed that hadn't stopped her younger self from absorbing this one. Never, growing up, had she felt any interest in gaining an intimate understanding of these shops or the things they contained. They had always been filled with men, looking like authorities on various subjects. These their favourite shops to go to. Not hers. She was supposed to like clothing shops.

Admittedly, Hermione didn't like clothing shops much either. She liked the nice, neutral area of bookshops. But, here she was, attempting to work out whether the floors needed a protective finish, a varnish with one of a variety of stains, a lacquer (which seemed different to a varnish), a polish (she didn't know what the difference there was either), or something that was UV resistant, weatherproof, satin (just, in general, apparently), or water based – things that some of the tins proclaimed, and others… just didn't. Others didn't say what base other than water they had, didn't say that they didn't protect against UV rays or weather, or what, other than satin, they could be.

And, on top of that, Hermione did not know what type of wood the floorboards Sirius was thinking of exposing and varnishing were. Her father may be a dentist, but, staring at many shelves stuffed with tins, Hermione dearly wished to ask him what in the world she needed. He'd know something.

But either her father must be a dying breed of man, or Hermione's childhood visits to these shops had provided her a very warped perception of the men of that generation. Neither Ron nor Harry would be any assistance here, and Sirius was no help. The only man in their group was admiring a selection of light fixtures with Tonks and Molly, all three pointing out different ones they liked. Hermione picked a clear varnish that seemed intended for just "timber floors", and hauled it into the trolley.

Tonks and Molly were more help with paint colours. Sirius was even less helpful.

'This is cheery,' Molly said, pointing out a butter yellow shade on a slip of paper.

It was a bit… too yellow for Hermione, but it was better than Tonks's rose pink suggestion. Hermione had to assume Remus had had a lot more to say about the colour of their cottage's walls than Tonks.

'I like this,' Sirius said, handing over a shimmering gold colour. Hermione recoiled when she saw it. Sirius sniggered as she turned an astounded look on him and handed her another colour guide in shades of dreary blue.

'Not that,' Tonks protested. 'You don't want that on your walls! You'll feel blue every day!'

'Okay.' Sirius passed Hermione a startling crimson and she knew he was joking. She gave him an exasperated look and he laughed. 'You pick the colour, then,' he told her, and wandered off.

So long as he meant it, Hermione was going to take that to heart. Sirius was terrible at envisioning what the house would look like once painted. It was as though he wasn't even trying.

'He's in good spirits,' Tonks commented, flicking thorough paint colour samples. 'Reckon he's sleeping better?'

Molly was watching Sirius inspect saws with more sceptical eyes. Another shade, this one in lavender, was passed in front of Hermione's eyes by Tonks.

'The only thing Arthur was ever particular about,' Molly said after Hermione had found a way to politely decline Tonks's suggestion, 'was that things matched. Which, of course, they don't after a few years. Some things break, others get lost, and you can never find the same style again fifteen years later.'

'You wouldn't want everything to match,' said Tonks. 'You want to mix things that don't match but go together. Light woods with dark woods, pink with yellow…'

Hermione picked a shade of white that held only a very slight warm touch of yellow for the walls and a whiter white for the ceiling and cornices. She found Sirius amidst the doorhandles and showed him both, one on top of the other.

'Okay,' he said.

'Sirius, you need to really consider it!' Hermione said. She held the two colour samples up again. 'Try to see a room in the house. Then see them in these colours.'

Sirius squinted at the two colours.

'Looks good,' he said.

Hermione huffed, dropping her hands by her sides.

'You're not helping!' she complained.

Sirius treated her to a look of surprised innocence.

'What?' he said. 'I agree with you. It looks good. We'll go with those two.'

'Is that really what you think?'

'Yes?' Sirius said, as though he wasn't sure it was the right answer. 'Yes,' he said, more confidently. 'It looks good. How do we get the paint?'

He followed her to the paint mixing machine and watched it with abject fasciation as the operator took the paint samples Hermione asked for.

'Only a couple tins of each?' the man asked.

It would have to be. With all they had to carry back to the house in a non-magical way, Hermione was hoping they could rely on Refilling Charms for a while.

'We're… erm… trying it out,' Hermione told the paint mixing man. 'I'll keep the samples, if I can, so we can get more when… we're sure.'

The shop did sell fuses intended for household circuits, and Hermione even found a plastic box they were supposed to fit in – just in case, she supposed, someone with an old house liked continuing to change fuses when they blew, rather than just flicking the switch back on. She collected a length of electrical cord, and, for good measure, a household circuit breaker distribution board, already set up in its packaging. It was the less obsolete technology after all.

'This one,' she said to Molly, indicating the fuses, 'fit in this box. This,' she lifted the circuit breaker panel, 'is complete. The fuses don't go in here. But Arthur can connect the wires,' she pointed at the roll in the trolley, 'to either of them. Just… if he puts electricity though them, remember to tell him the brown wire is the live one.'

Molly started checking price tags, but Sirius had control of the trolley and wheeled it up to a counter.

'It's fine, Molly,' he said, getting into line, as she continued to fret about price tags. 'It's faster to ring it all up at once anyway.'

Alone among many pureblood wizards, Sirius proved rather competent with doling out Muggle money. Picking it out of a conspicuously thick wad of notes, Sirius paid for their purchases.

'Here,' he said to Hermione once they'd left the shop with their purchases. Into her hand, he tipped the pile of coins the cashier had given him in change. 'Donno what to do with them,' he said when Hermione frowned at him. 'They don't fit into the wallet. I was given a funny look by the shop attendant when I went looking for a purse, though, so I got the wallet – and it's got nowhere to stick coins.'

'You're supposed to just put them in your pocket,' Hermione told him. 'The small one can work well for that.'

'And then what?' Sirius asked.

'Well… then you keep them in your bedside drawer until you put your trousers on again the next day, and put some coins back in your pocket…'

'Why?'

'… So you have small change on you.'

'I have galleons in my bedside drawer,' Sirius said, looking confused.

Hermione tipped the coins into his pocket.

'Right,' Sirius said, dumping his bags against a post box and pulling out the pop riveter, 'so, how do I use this?'

He didn't seem to want instruction, so Hermione left Sirius to fiddle around with pop rivets until he found one that fit the tool's current setting. He gave the handles a squeeze and him, Tonks, and Molly looked closely at the broken off rivet sitting, ballooned out, on the post box.

'Cool,' Tonks uttered.

Molly shook her head in a very long-suffering way.

How many witches and wizards does it take to change a lightbulb? Hermione thought wryly, watching on. Seven: four to each give it a shot, one to scoff at their curiosity, and two to independently work out why touching live wires wasn't advised.

Though he'd left Hermione to fetch all the things on the list, Sirius didn't leave her to carry the large paint tins, plaster tub, and varnish all the way home. With some relief, Hermione passed the heavier items over and carried his lighter packets instead. They dumped the purchases in the dining room and Hermione spent a solid half hour talking Sirius through each item once Tonks and Molly had gone home. That was as far as Sirius seemed to want her help, so Hermione left after ten minutes of him just about ignoring her.

Sirius came to find Hermione in the library just before dinner – and after many hours of Hermione struggling though a very dejected funk while trying to focus on making Transfiguration notes. He was loaded with enthusiasm again, wanting her to come see what he'd achieved, and as he wrapped an arm around Hermione's back on the way downstairs, Hermione had to assume the man, so adept at sensing the truth of what she'd wanted before, was utterly oblivious to every feeling she'd had all day.

'I thought the dining room was a good place to start,' Sirius told her, ushering Hermione along the ground floor corridor. 'It was empty and we don't need it. Here – look!'

Sirius had swept Hermione into the dining room. Hermione looked around, then met Sirius's crinkled eyes.

'It's…' she breathed. 'Unrecognisable, Sirius! How did you get all this done today?'

The dining room held next to no vestiges of its previous appearance. The only things that remained were the fireplace, gas light sconces, and the door and window frames. The latter two were both crafted in attractive dark wood, and were the only parts of the room Hermione had suggested Sirius leave as they were. What the Podiroo had left of the curtains was gone, the carpet was gone, and so was all the ugly, peeling wallpaper.

What had replaced all that was a large, bright, and airy room with gleaming, polished hardwood floors, pristinely painted walls, and a flat white ceiling that looked professionally done. Sirius hadn't painted the skirting board and cornice. Instead, he'd sanded them right down to the wood and varnished that too. The only things in the room were the things they'd bought that day, clustered in the centre on a tarp.

'Worked hard,' Sirius said, grinning. 'It was an obstacle course in here for a while – I had everything going at once. But I think it worked out well – see,' he pointed up at the ceiling, 'I even worked out how to plaster!'

And he looked like he'd worked hard. There were paint splotches all over Sirius and plaster dust back in his hair. Through it all was a broad, beaming smile, like a child who'd finally managed to understand fractions. Hermione was taken through every step, starting with the ceiling he'd worked on first: rubbing away all the crumbling plaster as she'd suggested, casting a Stasis Charm on what was left, then replastering over it – something that had dropped a great many gobs of plaster on the now Vanished carpet before Sirius realised he could use magic to flatten all the plaster to a very flat ceiling before magically drying it.

Hermione took a step back from the wall and looked up and along it.

'How do you feel, now,' she said, 'about the paint colour?'

'It's good,' Sirius said. He gave her a funny look. 'I said I thought it was good when you picked it out.'

'Yes, but…' Hermione frowned back at him. 'I didn't really believe you,' she said frankly.

'I don't tend to say things I don't mean, Hermione.'

No, he didn't. And now he didn't seem to have completely lost interest in her either. He had paid enough attention to her to follow every suggestion she'd made. It was probably just that he'd been too enthusiastic about his new project for him to focus on much else. Coupled with the fact that Sirius didn't appear to want anyone to know about… whatever they were… And that she was being too sensitive. And that was the real reason Hermione had felt lower and lower all day, stuck back in the library, alone, like nothing had ever happened between them – the way, she had thought again and again that day, Sirius wanted it to be.

Or maybe… Hermione was just another distraction for Sirius. Something to focus on, when there was nothing better to focus on.

Hermione had put her arms away, holding her elbows across her chest. She felt very alone, even now, Sirius standing a couple feet away. She gave his general direction a smile.

'It's very good, Sirius. You did a great job!'

'What's…' Sirius said hesitantly, 'wrong?'

Hermione hated the question. What was she supposed to say? I'm sad because you paid me very little attention today and it's left me feeling like you don't actually care about me? That sounded ridiculous in Hermione's head, and would sound worse if she spoke it. She'd much prefer for him to just… do something that erased the feeling. Just something small.

'It's… nothing, Sirius.'

'I thought the cornices looked better like this…' Sirius said slowly. 'Rather than painted.'

It was the only suggestion Hermione had made he hadn't listened to. That he could think she'd be upset about that… left Hermione feeling a fool. She shook her head and sent another smile his way.

'They do look good,' she agreed.

'What, then?'

Hermione cast about for something to say.

'You didn't help,' she said, feeling stupid. 'In the shop. You left me to work out what to get. I could've used your help.'

Sirius didn't say anything for a moment, and Hermione started to worry he was seeing her as a silly little girl again. She felt she was. That was far too little a reason to explain why she was upset.

'I just figured,' Sirius said slowly – cautiously, 'you knew what you were doing. And you did, you picked all the right stuff…'

Hermione kept her eyes on the wall, hoping hard they wouldn't betray her with tears.

'I'm sorry,' Sirius said, more cautiously. 'I wasn't thinking…'

'I wanted it to just be us two,' Hermione whispered, and shut her eyes immediately after speaking, hearing just how silly she sounded.

Sirius's footsteps made more sound on these floors than they did on carpet. He put an arm around her shoulders.

'And I don't like sitting on my own in the library,' Hermione went on. 'But I felt like you didn't want me around!'

Sirius rubbed her shoulder. Hermione wouldn't look up at him. She was sure she'd see a man looking like he had no idea what to do with an irrational girl.

'Like I wasn't interesting enough for you anymore!'

'I think,' Sirius said, 'you've read a lot of things I didn't intend into what I did…'

That did it. Now the tears came.

'And now I feel stupid!' Hermione warbled.

A chin rested on the top of her head. Hermione turned into him as Sirius wrapped the other arm around her.

'Do you remember,' Sirius said quietly, 'three mornings ago?'

Yes Hermione did. And he'd done exactly the same thing she had today: came to irrational conclusions about her. Hermione nodded into his chest.

'Don't cry,' Sirius whispered. 'I didn't mean anything. If you want me to pay attention to something, just ask me to do so.'

'I did!'

'And I told you I thought it was good. Which it was. And I wouldn't have minded if you'd sat down here. You probably wouldn't have been too happy with all the paint and plaster on your notes, though. And,' Sirius's voice became much quieter. He hesitated, then whispered, 'I do want you around. I don't think you're unaware just how inappropriate that is. So… honestly, Hermione, I meant nothing by it today.'

He wasn't comfortable with it, but Hermione hadn't needed Sirius to say so to know that. And, oddly, despite it being inappropriate – despite having just felt like a silly girl – Hermione stood in his arms just feeling like a woman. Irrational, sure, but not any younger, really, than he was. He was just a man holding an upset woman, without any great ability to be the wiser or more mature one. But Hermione couldn't well tell him something that would sound very far from a compliment, so she just looped her arms around his middle and felt more content than she probably should.

Harry's usual seat was the one right beside Sirius. Hermione had been taking it when Harry wasn't there, and she did so again at dinner. Her tears had long since dried and attention had returned to what to do with the house. It'd be nice, Hermione said, if the windows were larger, and that had started the cogs turning in Sirius's head.

The house hadn't been built with windows large enough to suit rooms that had been magically enlarged. Removing the curtains was a good step, but it'd be even better if the house was even brighter. Just enlarging the windows would be easy – were it not for the wards on the house.

Sirius was the expert on that. Debate and discussion continued all the way through dinner. They climbed back to the dining room after, and stood before a window, considering.

'It's – this,' Hermione said when the thoughtful silence had lasted long enough that her mind had wandered, 'it may be inappropriate… Or… just weird, I think. But that… doesn't mean it's not understandable. Or that it's… wrong – inexcusable.'

Sirius stared at the window. Only slowly did he turn to look at her. He shoved his hair out of his face and gave what was little more than a noncommittal nod. Hermione was pretty sure he knew what she was talking about.

'What about furniture?' Hermione asked, changing the subject.

Sirius glanced around the room.

'No bloody clue,' he said, and went back to the window.

It was fascinating to watch him think. Sirius took on the conundrum of the window with a single-minded focus, tramping around it, casting revealing spells, unaware of his hand that returned to his head repeatedly to wiggle his nose, shove away his hair, or scratch his head. He pushed the window open after a while, muttering thoughts to Hermione, and climbed into the window frame to cast more spells outside that seemed to tell him exactly what the wards were doing.

'Placeholder Case over the window,' he said, squatted in it. 'It'll have to be extended first. I don't think just making the window take up more of the wall will stretch it far enough. It could crack…'

'Overextend it,' Hermione said, 'while we work. It'll give the wards more flexibility, won't it?'

'On wards that don't work against me…' Sirius said thoughtfully. 'Yes… that could help.'

It took them well past when Harry came off watch, working cautiously, to very gradually replace more and more of the wall with the expanding window.

'The house has changed again!' Sirius called out to Harry the moment the front door shut.

Harry followed his voice and poked his head into the room.

'It's good,' Harry said, looking around approvingly. 'Bigger, somehow, with the walls white.' He nodded to the window between Hermione and Sirius. 'That window's bigger than the other.'

'Yeah,' said Sirius. 'We're working on that.'

Harry took that with a nod. He turned away to go fetch himself some dinner.

'Oh – Harry,' Sirius called after him, 'if the house looks like it's going to implode, the kitchen is a good refuge. It's not magically enlarged.'

Harry backtracked and treated his godfather to a wary look.

'Implode?'

'Just a small chance,' Sirius said reassuringly.

Harry didn't look reassured. He glanced to Hermione. Hermione couldn't give him much more by way of reassurance. She was trusting Sirius on this.

'We're being careful,' she offered.

'He trusts you more than he does me,' Sirius said once Harry had gone down into the kitchen.

'On the subject of you imploding the house he does,' Hermione said. 'That is something you'd be tempted to do just for the fun of it.'

'Nah.' Sirius had climbed back into the window. 'I've put all this effort in. Can't blow it up now.'

So, instead, he'd just make it look completely different. Hermione had no arguments against that. She already felt less like the house was trying to oppress her with maleficent ugliness just standing in the renovated dining room.

Still a plaster-dusted and paint-splatted mess, Sirius took a shower before bed. Hermione was patting Crookshanks when Sirius came out, and looked over her shoulder as he extinguished the lamps and climbed in behind her. She rested down on the pillow, feeling Sirius's body curl around hers, the bed dipping her into him.

Skin warm from his shower, Hermione could feel Sirius's heat through the fabric of her pyjama top. She regretted wearing it. Just the thought of Sirius's chest up against her bare back sent another ripple of warmth through her. His knees came up behind her legs, and Hermione felt her backside cradled by him, as though Sirius's body was exactly the right length to fold around hers.

'That's nice,' Hermione murmured as Sirius slipped a hand around her middle.

'Mm… You're too short.'

'Excuse me?'

Sirius chuckled, wriggling his arm under Hermione's pillow.

'My head's too high,' he said. 'You need to move down a little.'

Hermione shuffled a little way down the bed, pulling her pillow with her, and Sirius repositioned himself with a quiet 'That's better.'

'I am not too short,' Hermione grumbled. 'You're too tall.'

Sirius chuckled again.

'Okay, we'll say it that way.'