Chapter 51: Thirty Nine, Thirty Seven… Twenty Five

Music suggestion: Not as Old as You Think, Paper Aeroplanes

Much as they largely had been their "stay mostly out of sight" lives, they'd embraced an indoor celebration for Sirius's birthday. That, though, was more in response to the rains that had set in on Friday with the characteristic appearance of a greyness that would last.

It was to this dawning greyness that Hermione woke on Sunday morning. Cold, damp, and dreary outside the windows, rain speckling the glass, a wet autumn leaf stuck to one in a corner; warm and cosy inside, making the grey light feel cuddly and intimate. Sirius had turned in the night. He was now more on his front than his side, propped up to almost face Hermione by the arm he had across her chest and the bent knee he had pressing into her leg; his other arm shoved under his pillow. He was still asleep. Not snoring, but snuffling peacefully into his pillow, black hair tousled around his head.

There was a remarkable calm in a rainy Sunday morning. A calm Hermione knew she would share with Sirius when he woke. When the faint lines around his eyes would deepen, making grey eyes seem the most beautiful things she'd ever seen. When his face would ease into a sleepy smile, filled with affection.

And until then… it was amazing to watch Sirius sleep. It wasn't that he couldn't look peaceful when awake. It wasn't that he was more handsome when unanimated. Far from it. Sirius's animation was near impossible to look away from. No… it was the defencelessness of him when asleep. Rarely did Hermione see Sirius as someone she could take care of. Asleep beside her, that was her desire. Some… perhaps idiotic maternal instinct, rearing an otherwise absent head. To want him to be comfortable. To caress the side of his face and press a gentle kiss to his forehead.

Sirius took a slow breath as Hermione did just that. His arm tightened around her. Hermione eased back and watched his eyes blink open. He shifted, scooting more onto his side, and his eyes did crinkle as he gazed back at her, his face did fill with genial warmth, even as he gave his eyes a rub and blinked a few more times.

'So,' he said, voice rough from sleep, 'thirty nine.'

Hermione's fingers had slipped into his hair. She trailed them down over the side of his sleep-softened face, feeling the shape of his cheekbone, the bristly stubble, and those endearing fine lines around his eyes.

'You don't look it,' she told him.

'Tell that to the wrinkles you're touching.'

Hermione smiled.

'Your skin looks young, Sirius,' she murmured. 'You could tell people you're twenty nine and they'd believe you.'

'Twenty nine,' Sirius said, 'I could deal with.'

'How about twenty five?'

Sirius quirked an eyebrow.

'Sounds even better.'

Hermione hummed thoughtfully.

'You were dead, Sirius, for almost two years.'

'Really?' he said flatly. 'When?'

Hermione gave him a look. He knew she'd only just started a thought.

'You're thirty seven,' she went on. 'Not thirty nine. You were thirty six when you died.'

Sirius's eyes squinted a little, thinking that through.

'I died… in June,' he said. 'And came back in May…' His eyes squinted more. 'So…' he went on slowly, 'I turned thirty seven… er…'

'About a month ago,' Hermione provided, eyeing him curiously. She started to snigger. 'Are you… bad at maths, Sirius?'

Now Sirius's eyes were narrowed for a different reason.

'I don't like maths,' he told her, as though that were a defence.

Hermione giggled harder.

'You are!' she laughed.

'And that is funny… why?'

'Because,' Hermione chortled, 'you're brilliant at everything else!'

Sirius was smiling back at her. He snuggled more into his pillow.

'I'm terrible at the alphabet too,' he confided in her. 'I can never remember what order the letters come in. And I can't spell.'

'That's perfect!' Hermione cried, wiping tears of mirth out of her eyes. 'It's so like you!'

Sirius questioned that with raised eyebrows.

'Fantastic at everything complicated!' Hermione explained. 'Having skipped straight over the basics! I'm guessing that's because they were boring?'

Sirius chuckled.

'They are boring,' he confirmed and laughed with Hermione as she crumbled into a cackling ball. He rubbed her back and kissed the top of her head. 'Ask Minerva about my spelling sometime,' he told her. 'It drove her mad, and she couldn't mark me down for it when she could understand what I was trying to write. It was the excuse she gave back then for why so many of my detentions involved writing lines. She kept threatening me with remedial classes if I ever stopped needing detentions.'

'So,' Hermione guessed, 'you never stopped needing detentions?'

Sirius grinned back at her.

'Yup,' he said. 'Helped me get out of Slughorn's parties often enough, too. Stunned two Hippogriffs with one spell: only ever went to one Slug Club party, and never had to take remedial spelling classes.'

He looked very proud of himself. It only served to make Hermione laugh harder. She shook her head and took a breath.

'What I was saying,' she said, 'was that you're not as old as you think. And I was going to say that if you count only the years you've had to live – properly, I mean, outside of Azkaban – you're only about twenty five, Sirius.'

Sirius considered that, his expression sobering.

'I was born in '59, Mione.'

Hermione knew that. She'd read his mother's diaries.

'It really doesn't matter,' she said assuredly. 'That's what I'm saying. Of all people, I think you're the one for whom age matters least. Today was the day you were born, but it's not the day you become a year older. I think you are well within your rights to disregard the numbers.'

Sirius nodded slowly.

'I want to be thirteen,' he said, thought about that, then nodded again, confident in his choice.

'Thirteen?'

'Yup,' Sirius said. 'Can I be thirteen?'

Hermione pushed herself up, got onto hands and knees, and swung a leg over him. She sat atop him, and gazed thoughtfully down at the man.

'Well,' she said, 'you can… But then I'd have to get off the underage boy I'm sitting on.'

Sirius looked down, then back up. He lifted her pyjama top and took a peek under it.

'Not thirteen!' he said, determined.

Hermione giggled. She squirmed on him a bit.

'And if you're too old…' she said airily. 'Well, I might break your fragile bones, mightn't I?'

How Sirius could sit straight up, using no muscles but the ones in his abdomen, Hermione didn't know, but he could, and he did – catching the back of her head and kissing her soundly in the same moment.

'Not old,' he told her, kissed her again, and flipped her onto her back. 'Very,' he said, walking his fingers up under her top, 'young and spritely!'

Harry wasn't at the kitchen table when they sat down to breakfast. Looking harried, Kreacher ran over with a wide breakfast spread, then hurried back to the kitchen where it seemed he was preparing half a farm for roasting or whatever else in the huge, frightening old range oven. Sirius turned right around in his seat to see the catastrophe being turned into food behind him. Kreacher's bat-like ears were visible over a narrow bare corner of scrubbed wooden counter, standing anxiously erect. He gave an odd little yelp and ran back out again with the freshly baked bread they didn't really need as an addition to every other possible breakfast food that was scattered across the table.

Kreacher set the bread on the table, bowed to Sirius, and gave a croaky little, 'Happy Birthday, Master Sirius!' before disappearing into the pantry and coming out with a huge bag of flower.

It was more chaos than Hermione had seen even in the Burrow when Molly was putting on a festive meal. Knives were chopping, vegetables were flying, herbs were scattering, sauces were whisking, things were bubbling away, bits were being crisped, and eggs were cracking themselves. And they were just having a dinner, many hours from now, with a not-enormous group of people.

Sirius turned back around, Kreacher's clattering continuing behind him. He gave Hermione a wide-eyed look and bent over his eggs.

'Should we offer to help?' Sirius asked her, once they'd left the kitchen for the corridor above. He hovered by the top of the kitchen stairs, looking quite bewildered. 'Or… at least remind him he doesn't need to feed the whole army?'

'No,' Hermione said. 'He wants to cook something big and special, Sirius. Let him.'

Staring at her, Sirius scratched the back of his head. When he dropped his hand he looked like the entire world had turned upside-down on him. Hermione took pity on him.

'When was the last time he gave you a birthday dinner?' she asked rhetorically. 'I think he made you your first birthday cake. I think he got you out of your crib that day and fed you your breakfast. And I think that's something he's been remembering. So if he wants to cater for you today, you should let him. And you should thank him for it.'

Sirius didn't know what to do with that. Hermione crossed her arms and looked back at him.

'I mentioned to him,' she said, 'that we'd be having a dinner for you on the night of your birthday. I suggested to him that we could each bring or make something for the night. He didn't like that. He insisted he would do it. And,' she finished pointedly, 'I didn't need to tell him what day your birthday was. He knew.'

Sirius just nodded – and then changed the subject.

'So,' he said, glancing towards the stairs, 'where are my presents? Harry's room?'

He didn't give her a second to huff at him for not acknowledging the sweet creature that was Kreacher. Hermione was running after him a second after he said that, shouting for him to wait for tonight as he grabbed the handrail at the bottom of the stairs, swung around it, and launched up them.

Sirius didn't heed her shout. Hermione sprinted up the stairs after him, but he was too fast.

'Harry!' she yelled, racing up the second flight of stairs as Sirius sprung onto the landing above. 'Harry! Stop him!'

'I've been good!' Sirius laughed back at her. 'I waited for today!'

Harry's door pulled open as Hermione jumped up onto the landing. The messy-haired teenager, standing in his pyjama bottoms in the doorway, spotted the hurtling man and threw out both arms, gripping the doorframe and barring Sirius's entry.

Sirius slowed, Hermione pulling up behind him.

'Harry,' Sirius said, mock-warning, 'you know I can force my way in, so… isn't it better if you let me?'

Hermione ducked past Sirius to stand with Harry before his door. Harry glanced at her.

'You'd fight me,' he said to Sirius. 'But you wouldn't fight a girl, would you?'

'I wouldn't need to fight her,' Sirius countered, taking a step closer. 'She's light. I'd just pick her up. She can't do much if she's hanging over my shoulder.'

Hermione took a stance that tried to look as able to block Sirius as Harry's.

'And if I put up a fight?' she asked Sirius.

Sirius considered that. Hermione was sure he could come up with twenty different ways to put her out of action without actually fighting her.

'That would make it harder,' he agreed.

'Be a good boy,' Harry said to Sirius, straight-faced, 'and wait for after dinner.'

Sirius scowled.

'But they're my presents!' he griped, very much like a petulant child.

Just behind Hermione, Harry had started chuckling.

'Not,' Hermione told Sirius sternly, 'until we give them to you.'

'Remus and Tonks would be so disappointed if you open them without them here,' Harry added, speaking even more like he was talking to a child. 'They'll want to be here, Sirius.'

Sirius looked disgruntled for all of a moment. He turned on his heel.

'But Hermione,' he said, headed once more for the stairs, 'has her own gift –' He broke off into laughter as Hermione shrieked and raced after him again.

'How do you know that?' she called as Sirius charged up the next flight stairs.

'I heard you go up to put it away in your room!' Sirius shouted back. 'You're not very sneaky Mione!'

But he let Hermione, helped by a Harry caught somewhere between amusement and bemusement, catch him this time. They put Sirius to work stripping and painting the spare bedroom on the first floor and Harry, once he'd finished having breakfast and getting himself ready, came back to help Hermione watch the wizard.

Neither of them got any schoolwork done that day – a very fun day. They didn't even try. There was something about Sirius starting the morning with well-humoured idiocy that left even Hermione not in the mood for school. Anyway, she told herself, they were, admittedly, ahead on their studies, and even Ron, as Hermione had confirmed earlier that week, had read up on the theory. So one day… would be all right.

Between the three of them – and between the jokes and laughter – they'd gotten the spare room finished and started on Sirius's record room by the time evening rolled around; keeping Sirius neatly occupied as Remus and Kingsley snuck what was left of Sirius's motorbike into the drawing room.

There was a group of people in the entryway when they started down. Initially just Kingsley, Remus, and Tonks, the latter holding Teddy, but as Hermione led the way down the stairs the door opened and the twins, Bill, Fleur, Ron, and Ginny came in.

Sirius had slowed on the stairs. He'd called a hello, then grown very quiet despite the Weasleys wishing him a happy birthday. Hermione looked around as she reached the ground floor. Harry was just behind Sirius, and Sirius was watching Remus very intently.

The moment Hermione stepped off the stairs, Sirius hissed, 'Run! Hermione Run!'

'What?' she asked.

Other than to nudge her aside, Sirius didn't respond. But then Hermione spotted it: Remus, the mature professor, was jumping at Sirius. Hermione dashed to the side and turned to see Remus catch Sirius across the shoulders as Harry grabbed Sirius's feet out from under him. They pinned him down and shared a congratulatory look, Sirius laughing from the floor.

'You got Harry in on it?' Sirius said, looking up at Remus.

'I told him his father used to get your feet,' Remus admitted, amused. 'He was interested in giving this little birthday tradition a try. I do, though,' he went on, keeping Sirius's wrists pinned to the floorboards, 'remember you putting up more of a fight, Padfoot, no matter how much we tried to catch you off your guard.'

'And what a disappointment that was,' lamented Kingsley. He was leant against the wall near the door, watching on interestedly.

'James,' Sirius said, 'I could kick in the face.' He glanced down at Harry. 'There's a limit to how much I want to do it to the younger version.'

'Is that it?' Kingsley taunted. 'Or are you just rusty, Black?'

Sirius grinned over at him from the floor. Harry and Remus had let him go, but Sirius, it seemed, hadn't seen fit to get up yet.

'Nope,' he said. 'Not rusty.'

Kingsley stood up from the wall.

'Prove it,' he said.

Sirius tucked his hands behind his head.

'What're you angling for, Kings?' he asked. 'You want a fight?'

Kingsley eyed him for a moment. He shucked off his shoes and left them by the wall, standing as barefoot as Sirius was lying.

'I've heard the stories,' Kingsley said. 'I was a qualified Auror when you began your training. Mad Eye liked to talk about the promising upstart. He was disappointed you didn't put up a fight when they brought you in.'

Sirius let out a single bark of laughter.

'Upstart?' he said. 'More like prodigy.'

Ginny shared an amused look with Hermione. Hermione was stuck in the middle of finding their banter moronic, worrying what the two could do to each other, and genuinely anticipating seeing who would win. She stepped back with the rest as Sirius sat up, got his feet under him, and stood. Kingsley shrugged out of his overrobes, revealing slacks and a loose white t-shirt, and tossed the robes to Sirius.

'You sure about this, old man?' Sirius teased, hanging Kingsley's robes over the curled end of the balustrade and looking, as far as Hermione could see, entirely unconcerned about facing down Kingsley – a man who, while older, was also visibly larger than Sirius. 'It could turn out embarrassing for you.'

Humour was dancing in Kingsley's face. It didn't show itself often, but it was there now. He liked this sparring thing as much as Sirius did.

'You're not that much younger,' Kingsley countered. 'And I have consistent practise on my side.'

Sirius grinned at that. Kingsley looked in shape, in a bulky sort of way. But Hermione knew Sirius well. For all Kingsley was larger, Sirius was deceptively strong, quick, and, as Hermione watched the two of them, looked far more adroit.

Teddy held close, Tonks waved them further down the corridor.

'Back up!' she called. 'Give them room – trust me, you don't want to get in the way!'

'This'll be interesting,' remarked Bill, stepping back and letting Fleur duck behind him.

'No wands?' Sirius asked.

'No wands,' Kingsley confirmed.

Both wands were lobbed toward Remus, who caught them looking more amused than interested, and tucked them away in his robes pocket.

'Should we not stop zem?' Fleur asked uncertainly.

'Not worth trying,' Tonks answered, rolling her eyes.

'Ooh dear…' Hermione uttered. 'What if they hurt each other?'

'They won't,' said Ron, getting a clear view over her shoulder.

'They likely will,' said Remus. 'But they know that.'

'My money's on Sirius!' a twin called.

'I'm on Kingsley, then!' said the other. 'Ten galleons?'

'Twenty!'

'You're on!'

No one else seemed to want to take sides, and the group watching on grew quiet as Sirius and Kingsley shook hands. Hermione had a clear view between Remus and Harry. She watched the two wizards step away from each other, Kingsley taking a stance with his arms readied, Sirius just standing there, arms loose by his sides.

Without a single indicative twitch, Sirius moved first: twisting and shunting sideways with a readied elbow which Kingsley spotted and aimed for – but Sirius was ready for that. He dropped suddenly to a crouch, intercepting his own swing to strike out instead at Kingsley's undefended middle. And then… Hermione was wishing for Omnioculars again, the two were moving too quickly for her to be sure of what they were doing.

A rapid assault from Sirius's hands and elbows were caught by Kingsley, him deflecting them but being forced backwards towards the wall; then Sirius was being wrenched around, his arm being twisted behind his back, Kingsley's knee forcing him to the floor. Sirius spun on the floor, catching at Kingsley's knees – up on his feet again, yanking Kingsley to knee him in the stomach, Kinglsey's arm locking around Sirius's neck – Sirius flipping him to land heavily on the floor… somehow. Sirius then taking a kick to the belly, falling when Kingsley tugged him down, Kingsley hitting the side of Sirius's face with a fist –

Sirius rolled, got back on his feet and sent two rapid kicks to Kingsley's torso, spinning on the second kick and sending a swung fist to Kingsley's head. Kingsley dodged, catching the arm and turning, Sirius's arm over his shoulder. Sirius dropped before Kingsley could do anything, toppling Kingsley backwards onto him. Sirius got his legs around Kingsley's neck – Kingsley struggled – then they were suddenly both springing to their feet; an elbow to Sirius's middle bent him forwards and Kingsley's legs scissored around Sirius's neck: first one, destabilising Sirius, then the second going to lock with the first, Kingsley falling on his back and Sirius just managing to not hit his head against the hardwood floor as he fell face-first.

'So,' Ginny whispered to Hermione, 'who's winning?'

Hermione had no idea. This was different from the tussles Sirius had had with Harry and Remus. This one was serious, and really violent. It painted into colour the incomplete picture she'd had of the "sparring matches" Sirius had sought from random Muggles. She just shook her head, staring on.

Sirius was beating at Kingsley with his knee, shoving at Kingsley's legs. He managed to unpin his head and rocked back onto his feet, crouched, pivoted, and shot a foot backwards into the kneeling Kingsley's shoulder. Kingsley caught his leg, threw it, then sprung to his feet. Sirius didn't fall, he recovered and flung both feet up with his weight on his arms, knocked Kingsley back – who stumbled. His feet under him again, Sirius spun and shot forward, losing no advantage, face a tight, focused grimace – hitting Kingsley in the head, then following that with a violent elbow to the back of his neck and a knee to Kingsley's abdomen.

Kingsley tipped and Sirius shoved him forcefully down. Sirius dropped right after Kingsley, his knee in the bigger man's back, yanking Kingsley's arms up behind him, Sirius's hands tight on Kingsley's wrists.

'I – give,' Kingsley panted, after only a couple seconds of being held face-down by arms raised painfully high behind him.

Sirius released him and fell to lie back on the floor, breathing almost as heavily.

'You learn that in Auror training?' Ron asked excitedly.

'You learn the basics,' Tonks said. 'That is just Kingsley and Sirius.'

In all the excitement, no one had noticed the front door open. Hermione spotted Molly, Percy, and Arthur stood in the doorway a second before Molly spoke.

'Kingsley!' she shrieked, cheeks bright red. 'Sirius! What – I can't believe this – what do you think you're doing?'

Kingsley had sat up. He had his fingers to his nose. When he withdrew them they were slick with blood.

'Sparring, Molly,' he told her.

'Sparring?' Molly repeated, looking incredulous. Her cheeks worked without sound for a moment. 'Sirius I would have expected this from – but you, Kingsley!'

Molly had no more words. Sirius had noticed Kingsley's bloody nose. Still flat on his back on the floor, he raised a hand and called a lazy 'Accio wand.'

As Hermione knew it would, Sirius's wand flew straight out of Remus's pocket. Sirius sat up in time to catch it from the air and tap it to Kingsley's nose. Kingsley tested his face and nodded to Sirius. Sirius turned his wand on his knees.

'I wanted a challenge,' Kingsley told Molly unconcernedly, getting to his feet and taking his wand as Remus passed it to him. 'I found one. Sirius,' he said, pulling his robes from the balustrade, 'I must say: best fight I've had in a long time.'

Sirius looked up at him. He gave Kingsley a salute. With notably less grace than usual, he pushed himself onto his feet and stood up. He extended his hand and Kingsley shook it.

'Same here,' Sirius acknowledged. One of his cheeks was already swelling, the coming bruise indicated in the pinkness of it. Hermione was sure the both of them would sport quite a bit more than that in the morning.

Molly's rage had only been momentarily stalled.

'And now you have Ron wanting to fight!' she cried, exasperated. 'Of all the things – how could you be so irresponsible!'

Undaunted, Kingsley pulled his overrobes back on.

'Ron,' Sirius said, looking over at Molly, 'wants to become an Auror. You'd be glad if he learned that. It could well save his life someday.'

Headed for the door, Kingsley rested his hand on Molly's shoulder.

'It comes in useful,' he assured her.

'You're not staying?' Sirius asked him as Kingsley moved on to the door.

'I'm on watch,' Kingsley said. He turned and gave Sirius an amused-looking nod. 'And I need to take over from Remus. I just came to have a word with him and wish you a happy birthday.'

Sirius snorted.

'I'll consider myself wished.'

'And I need to fix myself up beforehand,' Kingsley admitted. He pulled the door open. 'You've done a number on my back, Black.' Pausing, he glanced back once more at Sirius. 'When all this is over,' he said, 'I'm expecting to see you in Auror Headquarters, bright and early, ready to re-join.' He didn't wait for Sirius to respond. He gave a wry smile and finished with, 'Let's see if my sham marriage has produced a wife who'll tell me off for fighting.'

Sirius called a good luck to him and, waving, Kingsley left.

Though still pink about the cheeks, Molly had calmed. It didn't stop her casting Sirius an unimpressed look. He didn't seem to notice. He was prodding his injured cheek.

Fred turned a wide grin on George.

'That'll be twenty galleons!'

Molly made an irritated huff, threw her arms in the air, and strode off towards the kitchen.

'Boys…' Arthur began, then paused and waited for Molly to disappear down the kitchen stairs. 'You could have picked your time better,' he finished quietly.

George divulged the contents of his pockets as the twins and Arthur followed after Molly. He was one galleon short, and Fred threatened to paint the reminder on his head if he didn't get the last galleon to him in a timely manner. Tonks and Remus led most of the rest to the kitchen as well, aiming to give Teddy his dinner. Hermione stayed and was soon left in the corridor with only Harry and Sirius.

Sirius had squinched his eye shut. He was poking cautiously in around the socket. Harry was watching him warily.

'Man can throw one hell of a punch,' Sirius muttered, largely, it seemed, to himself.

'How bad were the other guys?' Harry asked abruptly. His tone was flat, the words quiet.

It was the first time Harry had mentioned anything about Sirius's past fights. Sirius peeled his eye open. He gazed at Harry for a moment. Hermione saw his look grow sad before Sirius glanced away. She shook her head and stepped forward.

'Leave it be, Harry,' she said softly, catching the side of Sirius's head and pulling it down to have a look at his cheek. Sirius took hold of her wrist, but let her Heal his face before easing her away.

'They were fine,' he answered, voice gravelly. 'I don't aim to injure, Harry. Not unless they're trying to injure me.'

'Where else is hurt?' Hermione asked, eyeing Sirius from top to toe.

'I'll Heal it in a moment,' Sirius responded. He wasn't looking at her. Hermione let it alone, turning around to see Harry nod slowly.

'No,' he agreed, 'you don't.' He nodded again, took a breath, and added, 'Kingsley took defeat well.'

Sirius watched him silently for a moment.

'It was a fair win,' he said. 'On another round, he may well beat me.'

'I doubt it,' Harry said. 'What style of fighting is that?'

Sirius shrugged.

'It was called the Taeramh. I have no idea if that's a single style.'

Harry considered his godfather.

'Will you take Kingsley up on his offer? To be an Auror?'

'I don't know,' Sirius answered. 'Maybe.'

'You should,' Harry said.

Hermione and Harry left Sirius to Heal himself in the ground floor loo. Though Sirius watched Harry carefully for a bit longer, his expression didn't grow clouded.

Kreacher had truly gone all out. Molly and the twins were just laying the last of the food on the table when Hermione and Harry reached the kitchen. There were plates of pastries, assorted hors d'oeuvres, bowls of dipping sauces, four gravy boats, corn on the cob, jacket potatoes, caramelised vegetables, buttery peas, two different chicken dishes, and, hidden in the middle, the desserts had already been laid out: a decadent black forest cake, trifle, jugs of cream, a peach cobbler, apple pie, and a plum turnover. The centrepiece was a huge lamb roast, easily enough there for all of them. Even so, Remus, who likely knew Sirius's love for lamb as well as Hermione and Harry did, was already cutting himself and Tonks some, just to be sure.

Remus looked up as Harry grabbed a plate and waited for the knife. He smiled, took a last slice, and handed the knife over.

'I take it you too have been deprived?' he asked.

'He all but gnaws the last of the meat off the bone,' Harry said dryly.

'His manners have improved,' Remus remarked. 'I have seen him gnaw the last of the meat off the bone.'

Hermione's appetite for lamb had never been great, and it had been lacking even more since she'd spent two hours mutilating one. She took her seat without jealously guarding a plate.

The lamb wasn't everyone's focus. Fred and George were sneaking bites of the plum turnover, alternatively keeping an eye out for their mother. Ron wasn't as cautious in his assault on the cobbler. Both twins snatched their hands away as Molly headed back to the table with a jug of butterbeer, finishing what was in their mouths with what looked like surreptitious sucking. Ginny stuffed the last of a filo pastry in her mouth and sat looking innocent.

'Ron!' Molly scolded, smacking his hand away. 'Wait for Sirius!'

'They're not,' Ron said, indignant, pointing out the squirreled plates of lamb.

''Ermione?' Fleur called. 'Ees eet okay for Crookshanks to be eating zee custard?'

Hermione looked around. The trifle was safe. Hermione followed Fleur's pointing finger and spotted Crookshanks's bushy tail, standing straight as a flagpole and twitching slightly, over where his food bowls were set out. She stood up and saw Crookshanks's head buried in a small bowl. Kreacher was standing not far from the cat, looking nervous.

'Kreacher,' Hermione asked, 'did you give Crookshanks some custard?'

Kreacher rung his towel between two hands.

'He was trying to eat the trifle, Mistress Hermione,' he croaked warily. 'Kreacher… thought it was best to give him a little of his own…'

Crookshanks had already nearly finished what was in the bowl. Hermione reassured Kreacher, though did point out it wasn't good for the cat.

'How old,' Percy asked Ginny, 'is Sirius?'

Ginny shrugged and looked to Tonks. Tonks spooned greyish mush off Teddy's cheek and stuck it into the baby's mouth. She shrugged too, and looked at Remus, Teddy so distracted by watching everyone around him he closed his mouth around the food, but didn't do anything with it.

'About your age?' Tonks said to Remus.

Remus leant around her and tapped Teddy's chin a couple times. The baby started munching.

'A bit younger, now,' Remus answered. 'He used to be older. Thirty seven, I'd say.'

'I prefer twenty five,' Sirius said, coming down into the kitchen. 'Ooh, lamb!'

Three plates were covertly slid a little further away from Sirius's seat.

'All Healed, then?' Harry asked him.

Sirius dug into the lamb, cutting himself a larger chunk off it than most people would be able to eat in one sitting.

'Mm…' he hummed distractedly. 'Yeah,' he answered, once he had stuck the chunk on a plate, unsliced. 'Except for my knee. Donno what I did to it, but it'll sort itself out.'

'Old age…' Remus suggested lightly. He looked up at Sirius, humour dancing in his eyes, as Sirius turned an unimpressed look on him.

Sirius pointed the knife at his old friend.

'It's not aches and pains,' he said, warning, 'it's a result of having a huge Kingsley-shaped battering ram thrown at me.'

Tisking, Molly snatched the knife out of Sirius's hand and put it back on the platter. Sirius compensated by spooning himself some peas. One by one, everyone else took that as a cue to dig in.

'You never used to complain about sore knees,' Remus said. He cracked a grin, seeing Sirius go for a pea and ducked in time to avoid having it connect with his head.

'You're one to talk,' Sirius pointed out, taking his seat. 'Ow my shoulder,' he mocked. 'My back… Gravity's gotten stronger…'

'Ah,' said Remus, fetching Tonks carrots as she spooned more food into Teddy's mouth, 'but I am a werewolf with a baby. What is your excuse?'

Remus didn't do as good a job dodging the next pea Sirius pegged at him.

'Thirty seven years hard living,' Sirius said, and, seemingly for the fun of it, flicked yet another pea at Remus.

Remus conceded that as worthy of sore knees.

'Though I must ask,' he said, 'when you will stop letting "prove it" work on you.'

Sirius barked a laugh.

'I'm pretty sure I've turned down at least one challenge!'

'I do not recall any,' Remus said mildly. 'I believe the words "prove it" came before you riding Hagrid's griffin, climbing onto the roof of the Great Hall… playing an entire game of Quidditch standing on your broom…'

Tonks looked up, eyebrows raised.

'You played beater!' she said, surprised.

'Exactly,' said Remus. 'He spent four days in the Hospital Wing after that.'

Sirius was chuckling around a mouthful. He swallowed.

'But we won Moony!' he laughed. 'And I consider it a personal triumph that I only fell off after Belby caught the snitch!'

'Surely,' said Percy, taken aback, 'your captain told you to sit down? That is an indecent risk for a player!'

'The captain,' Sirius said, 'was James – and he was the one who dared me to do it in the first place.'

Harry snorted over his plate.

'In fairness to James,' Remus told him, 'he did try to get Sirius to sit back down after about five minutes. Sirius just didn't listen.'

Sirius was sniggering too much to defend himself.

'How long was your detention after that one?' Hermione asked him.

'Only one night!' Sirius answered. 'I think Minerva was actually impressed.'

'Likely,' said Harry wryly, 'she figured you'd suffered enough already.'

Hermione's opinion mirrored Harry's. Four days in the Hospital Wing from only elementary trauma was a long time. Sirius must have sustained pretty serious injuries.

'See mum,' George said brightly, 'you could have had worse. Aren't you glad you only had to deal with us?'

Molly appeared to have given up. She was tucking into her wine.

One of the last to finish filling her plate, Hermione sat down with it and glanced over at Kreacher. She hesitated before eating. The elf was standing almost out of sight behind the corner of a counter, and his need to lurk saddened her. At the head of the table, Sirius glanced over at her, then to follow her eyeline.

'Join us, Kreacher?' he invited, surprising Hermione only a little. It surprised Harry and Ron rather more, both stopping munching as they looked up to see if they'd heard correctly.

Kreacher emerged from around the counter. He eyed Sirius, then the table full of people.

'House elves,' he said, more warily than disapprovingly, 'do not eat with their masters.'

'I don't see why not,' Sirius said.

'Master Sirius,' Kreacher croaked, 'has never been one for propriety.'

'And that's rather too true,' Sirius agreed. 'You cooked it. You should eat with us. I don't see why propriety should get in the way of that.'

Hermione suppressed a smile. Sirius had gone farther than she thought he would with her suggestion. The elf had never been Winky-level set on propriety. He definitely had his own views and his own interest in rebellion. And Kreacher wanted to join them. He edged nearer the table and Hermione fetched a plate and held it out to him.

It was an invitation that wasn't extended to Crookshanks, but he, unlike the elf, didn't care for one. As Kreacher climbed onto a chair to reach the dishes, the cat launched up onto the table. Arthur hopped up and snatched him away from the trifle.

'We had to get used to his custard-loving ways when he lived with us,' he told Hermione, walking away from the table and putting Crookshanks back on the floor. He stood there for a bit, blocking Crookshanks's path back to the table, before the cat gave up. Had it been Hermione who'd tried that, she was sure the cat would have just run past her. Arthur, though he never seemed to, obviously held more authority than she did.

'Zat ees not normal for a cat, ees it?' Fleur asked.

Hermione couldn't say. She'd only ever had the one.

'Didn't Wiggy,' Remus said thoughtfully, looking to Sirius, 'have a love of fried eggs?'

'Wiggy?' Tonks asked.

'The Potters' cat,' Remus said. He nodded to Teddy. 'Need me to take over?'

Tonks was doing a decent job feeding herself around trying to get Teddy to eat his dinner. She declined the offer.

'Originally James's parents' cat,' Sirius explained to Harry. 'Your parents kept her when Mr and Mrs Potter died – she always loved James best, though. And, yeah, she did like eggs. And popcorn. And, especially, cheese.'

'Wiggy?' Harry repeated, giving Sirius a funny look.

Sirius nodded and took another mouthful.

'Who… named her?' Harry asked.

Sirius chewed a bit until he could say, 'James,' around his mouthful. He finished and swallowed. 'When he was a kid,' he went on. 'She was an old cat.'

'But…' Harry said slowly. 'Where'd he get the name?'

Sirius thought about that. A little shudder went through him before he nodded.

'Wiggers,' he said, 'I think. There was a story about that – some ancient wizard who turned his bogey into an elephant? And then the elephant became his best mate…'

Sirius had looked to Remus for confirmation, but it was Arthur who provided it.

'The elephant was best man at his wedding,' he said, nodding. 'Yes, Septimus Wiggers. It's uncertain how much truth there is in the tale. What is true, though, is that Wiggers invented a sequence of potions for managing heart defects.'

The second part of that didn't interest Sirius. He looked to Harry.

'There you go,' he said, confirming it, 'Wiggers.'

Harry bent over his plate. Hermione couldn't tell whether or not he was disappointed Wiggy hadn't been named after Hedwig like his own dearly departed pet.

'So, Kreacher,' said Ginny, 'what was Sirius like as a baby?'

Kreacher was so short only his face from the nose up could be seen over the table. Hermione wondered whether it would be considered offensive to offer him a booster of sorts. But then, Kreacher could do that for himself if he wanted.

'Very sweet little boy was Master Sirius,' he responded, reaching up to set down his fork. He cast a brief look towards Sirius. 'But very mischievous,' he went on, somewhat carefully, 'even before he walked. If Kreacher took his eyes off him for a second, Master Sirius would be off, and Kreacher would find him in the pantry, sliding down the stairs, in a cupboard, or poking at a fire with anything he had picked up.'

Sirius was watching him interestedly. It seemed to give Kreacher confidence.

'He enjoyed seeing those Muggle things in the street,' Kreacher added. 'The big ones.'

'Lorries?' Harry offered.

Kreacher nodded earnestly, though Hermione couldn't be sure he knew what a lorry referred to.

'When M- Walburga and Orion were not around,' he went on, becoming determined, 'Kreacher would watch them with Master Sirius. He used to laugh and say "See big one, Krea! Big one!"'

Hermione laughed, able to see it all too well, and so did most of the rest of the table. Sirius was smiling.

'And Master Sirius would ask Kreacher to serve the dessert with the dinner,' Kreacher went on. 'Kreacher thinks he wanted to be able to eat only desert for dinner some days.'

Remus could add credence to that assumption. When they had lived together for a time after Hogwarts Sirius had done just that on numerous occasions.

Kreacher had a few more stories. He remembered that Sirius had refused to eat anything green until he'd been two and a half; his favourite game had been for Kreacher to chase him, and called that game "mimi" for no reason Kreacher had ever been able to fathom; that he'd once tried to "help" Kreacher with dinner by plucking a chicken for him, stuck every one of the feathers into whatever parts of his clothing could hold them, then decided the chicken wasn't for eating and ran off with it, scattering feathers everywhere; and that Sirius had always hated to have his hair cut, the little boy he had been screaming his lungs out any time Kreacher tried – his fingernails, though, Kreacher could cut without an issue.

Still with long hair, his aversion to green seemingly lifelong, but without much desire to defend dinner roasts any longer, Sirius laughed a few times; doing so wholeheartedly and with warmth in his face, even while looking at Kreacher.

When he wasn't being asked direct questions, Hermione noticed, Kreacher didn't speak up. The dinner conversation carried on around him as he, quite politely, ate his way through two plates. He had nothing on Sirius, though, who finished off the better part of the lamb roast and topped it off with dessert. Sighing, Sirius leant back in his chair, his fingers twitching towards his pocket. With Molly there, though, he left his cigarettes, and just rested. That was, until Fleur set down her fork, and Sirius turned his eyes on Hermione and Harry.

'So,' he said, 'I've been a good boy. Can I have my presents now?'

He took Hermione's sigh and Harry's look as a "yes" and leapt up from the table, only to halt, give a little groan, and mutter 'much too full for that…'

It was a well fed and sluggish group that headed for the stairs. Hermione stopped by the doorway and looked back.

'You can leave it for now, Kreacher,' she told the elf. 'Why don't you come with us and we'll tidy up later?'

Kreacher paused, the cutlery he'd been collecting in his hand. Surprisingly, he didn't take more persuading. Kreacher nodded, put the cutlery down, and followed.

'Is it a dragon?' Sirius was guessing when Hermione caught up with him. Remus chuckled and shook his head. 'A huge wheel of cheese? Another Hippogriff?'

'No,' Remus said. 'But it did once fly.'

Sirius stopped along the first floor corridor and looked around at Remus.

'It…' a look of dawning comprehension came onto his face. 'Seriously?' he asked.

Remus nodded and Sirius was off. A second later there was a delighted cry of 'Laverda!' from the drawing room.

'In perfect fix-it-yourself condition,' Remus chuckled, following Sirius in. 'Just as you like it.'

The motorbike – according to Remus, a 1975 Laverda 750 GTL – had certainly seen better days. It was missing a lot of its innards, as well as its front wheel, and looked like the front of it had been buckled inwards. The headlamp had been fixed, however, and its red casing and leather seat had been repaired to pristine, shining condition. The replacement parts were piled into a large box beside it.

Sirius had squatted before it. He ran an affectionate hand along the bike's side and had a look under it.

'She's the original?' he asked, getting up to inspect what Hermione assumed was the bike's dashboard.

'Yeah,' said Harry. 'Hagrid sends his regards. He salvaged it after it, er, crashed.'

Sirius turned around and caught Harry in a tight, deliberately smothering hug. Sirius laughed as Harry voiced a muffled complaint into his shoulder. He let Harry go. Stepping back, Harry readjusted his glasses.

Remus took Sirius's one-armed squeeze rather better.

'Happy birthday,' he said, handing Sirius the bike's key. Sirius stuck it snugly in his coin pocket. Likely, Hermione realised, what he'd previously always used that pocket for.

'There were a lot of us in on it,' Tonks said, as she returned Sirius's hug with one arm. Teddy, in her other arm, latched on to Sirius's t-shirt and didn't want to let go. Smiling, Tonks passed the baby over and Sirius gave him a bounce. 'We even had to ask Audrey's dad,' she went on. 'He has some motorbike of his own – a Triumph something. His brother's a squib with a hobby of restoring old bikes, so he had a lot of pointers.'

'I do think we have everything,' Arthur said. He'd crouched over the box of parts and was looking through them. 'You will find, though, Sirius, that some of the parts are from other models. Laverda doesn't make replacement parts for this bike anymore.'

'We were told,' said Bill, having taken a seat on a sofa, 'that you know how to stick it back together, Sirius.'

'Without putting an exhaust pipe on in the wrong place,' Fred said significantly.

Arthur looked up from the box and scowled at his son.

'It was an honest mistake, Fred,' he insisted.

'That nearly killed us,' Ron said in an undertone as his siblings snickered.

Sirius squatted down beside Arthur, settling Teddy on his knee. He wiggled what Hermione figured was an exhaust pipe on the side of the bike. It wiggled more than Hermione thought it should, but that didn't seem to bother Sirius. He bent over the box with Arthur and pulled out a metal thing he seemed to recognise. He flipped it over and squinted at it.

'Do make sure it's safe before you ride it, would you?' Molly said tiredly.

'I've fixed it before,' Sirius responded distractedly. 'Don't think it was ever quite this bad, but, yes, I can put it back together.' He looked back into the box and dug around in it. Within a moment, he'd pulled something else out, looked down at Teddy, and began explaining the part to the baby. It was involved in working the breaks, apparently, something Hermione very much hoped Sirius could put back together properly. She also made a mental note to ensure Sirius acquired a full-face helmet before he rode the thing, and riding leathers.

Most of the people in the room had taken seats. Tonks joined them, flopping onto a sofa beside Harry and rubbing her belly. Hermione fetched her present from the side table she'd left it on earlier. She'd started to feel oddly silly. No one else had a different gift for Sirius. They'd all worked on the bike together, a present Sirius was obviously very happy about. Arthur and Remus bent down around him, Sirius was peering in under the bike's seat, trying to determine how fatigued some cables were.

For a minute that stretched into more, Hermione stood feeling a lot like the odd one out. Conversation had begun around the coffee table, motorbike interest in a group off to the side. Hermione started to wonder whether she should just put the records away and give them to Sirius later.

But then Sirius stood up, called a sincere thanks to everyone involved, and noticed Hermione. His weren't the only eyes that spotted her. Like she was standing suddenly in a hot spotlight, Hermione felt heat blossom across her chest and start to rise up her neck. She held out the wrapped gift as Sirius came over.

He looked at it and smiled down at her.

'Here,' he said, turning Teddy towards her, 'take baby.'

Hermione had no idea how to do that. Her mind went blank. When it reasserted itself, the records were with Sirius and she was looking down at a little boy who was giving her a noteworthy frown. Hermione clasped the first baby she'd ever held awkwardly against her, abruptly quite terrified Teddy would cry – or, even worse, that she'd drop him. She got an arm under his bottom and tried to do the bouncing thing Sirius did.

Sirius had taken a seat in the armchair by the end table. He'd already pulled most of the wrapping paper off. Tugging away the last corner revealed the nondescript front cover of Led Zeppelin IV. He flipped it over and his eyebrows shot up, starting to chuckle.

'James missed a good one,' he said, looking up at Hermione. His eyes were crinkled and filled with a reassuring warmth.

Hermione nodded.

'That's what I thought. And… Stairway to Heaven is really good.' Reflexively, Hermione gripped Teddy tighter as he started to wriggle. He wriggled harder and tried to flop out of her arms, making unhappy noises. 'Erm… Sirius,' Hermione said, hanging on, 'I think he wants to go back to you…'

Sirius glanced up again from reading the back of the album. He tickled Teddy's foot, then acquiesced as Hermione tried to hand Teddy back and took him, plonking the baby safely on his leg, and flipped over the other record.

Hermione explained Monty Python, helped somewhat by Tonks, as Sirius let the baby fiddle with the corner of the album cover. When Teddy went to put the corner in his mouth Sirius stopped him seemingly unconsciously, distracting the baby with a tickle to his middle that had Teddy squirming and gurgling little laughs. It gave Hermione a peculiar moment of surreality, as though, all of a sudden, she could see into a future where Sirius sat with his own baby, teaching the child about music long before they could understand what he was saying; or into a past where he did it with Harry. Never too young, Hermione's mind provided her in Sirius's voice, to learn about motorbikes and rock and roll!

She got a Teddy-impeded hug from Sirius that would likely have lasted longer were they alone, and found a seat beside Kreacher, who looked rather out of place. The elf got up readily to help when Teddy began to fuss and Tonks and Remus decided he'd been given enough of a late bedtime and it was time to put him down in his bassinet in the next room. At Ginny's suggestion that they see what the Final Rip-Off Disk was all about, Sirius went to get his record player not long after.

To a large group that included Molly was not how Hermione had expected that particular album to be played, especially when she was uncertain how well Monty Python could reach their audience in only audio form. She took control of the record and skipped to the first track she was familiar with. To her great relief, at least most of those around her had caught on to the humour before the album began singing about Eric the Half a Bee – and when Tonks returned to the room just as a female voice demonstrated something quite bizarre to Charles, she buckled over and began laughing hysterically. Remus had to help her to a chair.

It wasn't only Hermione, then, that was sniggering into her hand, and that helped a lot every time she noticed Molly's expression. It was Tonks who picked up the track listing and insisted Hermione skip to the Parrot sketch. She was laughing too hard to come up with the next track to move on to when that one ended, and, to a room of snickering people – even Molly looking amused and listening closely – the enthusiastic introduction of a song began, and Hermione went bright red with the very first words.

Sit on my face and tell me that you love me

I'll sit on your face and tell you I love you, too

I love to hear you oralize

When I'm between your thighs!

You blow me away!

Sit on my face and let my lips embrace you

I'll sit on your face and then I'll love you truly

Life can be fine if we both sixty-nine!

If we sit on our faces in all sorts of places

And play, 'til we're blown away!

'Hermione!' Molly uttered, more stunned than anything.

Tonks had toppled off her chair. Hermione pressed her hands to boiling cheeks. She could barely hear what was happening next on the record, and a nervous glance around the room showed her likely no one else was either.

Sirius was howling with laughter, holding his belly as he tried to breathe. Ron was likely redder than Hermione, Percy almost as red as him. Ginny was cackling into Harry's shoulder as he sniggered. Remus seemed to be laughing more at Tonks than anything else. Arthur was trying not to, Fred and George were grinning like Christmas had come early, and Bill had his head on folded arms over an armrest, Fleur giggling behind pinched lips as she patted his back. Sat amongst witches and wizards overcome with hilarity, it was only Kreacher who looked bemused.

'Honestly,' Hermione squeaked, 'I didn't know that was on there!'

'I did!' Tonks cried. She sniffed and wiped tears of mirth out of her eyes. 'But, lord, call me naïve – I've only just worked out what it's about! Must've heard it…' She giggled breathlessly and wiped another tear off her cheek. 'A few dozen times and never made the connection!'

It was an hour more before they decided to call it a night.

Ginny began sniggering all over again as they headed down the stairs.

'"Due to bad planning",' she quoted, '"the hundred and twenty two thousand miles is in three inch lengths."'

'"As used in hospitals!"' Tonks cackled.

Surprising them all, Fleur chimed in with a very well-humoured, '"Why do you theenk I 'ave thees outrageous accent?"'

And then, as Remus joined them with Teddy in his bassinette (thankfully covered in the one-way sound screen) a resounding chorus of a half-forgotten Drinking Philosophers Song was begun by the twins.

Hermione was smiling to herself as she followed Kreacher down to the kitchen to help tidy up. It slid off her face when she saw the licked remains of the trifle sat on the table amidst otherwise untouched leftovers.

'Ooh no…' she said, looking around for Crookshanks. He wasn't there. 'Do you remember, Kreacher, how much was left in the trifle?'

Kreacher, his eyes wide, didn't.

'Oh dear,' Hermione fretted. 'What's that much custard going to do to him?'

'Do to who?' Sirius asked, coming down behind her.

The best Sirius had to offer once Hermione had explained was 'We'll keep an eye on him.' Hermione looked out for the cat all the way up to the third floor. Crookshanks was sat before Sirius's bedroom door when they reached it. He seemed strangely flat-spirited, and barely responded when Hermione went to pet him. He walked into the room with them, but stopped only a couple feet in, arched over, and started to strain with retches. What he vomited up was a ludicrous amount of custard for a cat.

'My poor little man!' Hermione moaned, lifting the cat gently away from the mess and stroking his back.

Sirius bent and, in a single swish of his wand, cleaned up the sick. He gave Crookshanks's head a scratch.

'I've been there mate,' he commiserated, moving away to change for bed. 'Though, admittedly,' he called back, 'not with custard. That's one weird problem you have.'

Contained within Hermione's arms, Crookshanks had begun grooming himself. Hermione set him on the bed and Crookshanks sat, cleaning his head, looking wholly recovered.

'Well that,' Hermione chided, 'should teach you not to overindulge!'

Crookshanks paid her no heed. Sirius snickered.

'Think he's going to listen?' he asked doubtfully.

'No,' Hermione said grouchily. 'But you should!' she told the cat. 'You're going to rot your teeth!'

Sirius rolled his jeans up and dumped them on the floor.

'Think you can feed him a Tooth-Flossing String Mint?' he suggested.

Hermione gave him a disapproving look.

Sirius grinned back.

'Just a suggestion.'

Hermione dismissed his suggestion by finding her pyjama top and changing into it. She was just pulling it on over her head when welcome arms slipped around her bare middle from behind. Hermione freed her head and received a kiss to the side of it.

'Thank you for today,' Sirius said softly, and went for another kiss to her temple.

Hermione held his arms to her.

'It wasn't just me.'

'Mm,' Sirius hummed. He kissed her again. 'I still appreciate it.'

He was smiling down at her when Hermione turned in his arms and looped hers around his neck.

'Happy twenty-fifth,' she joked quietly.

Author's Note

I've posted up the supplementary chapter about the Veela, if anyone's interested :). It's in its own story, as I didn't want to deal with the numbering of chapters being off lol - it should be find-able through my profile.

Responding to Reviews

Hey Dissyblack!

Honestly, on the BJ thing... I think I was too subtle. Sirius did fantasise about it, and enjoyed it in the moment he did, then the recollection of that fantasy made him sick. Looking back on this now, I reckon I should have repeated/reintroduced that idea a second time, with a bit more info, otherwise it does get lost in all the other stuff.

No worries at all! I'd gone back and forth on whether to post that AN a good many times, and wasn't too sure about it even when I did. It really isn't the place for something like that, in the footnotes of a fanfic. People are just trying to enjoy escapism here :).

I've had the thought, on a few occasions, that the sexy calendar I'd like isn't topless sweaty firemen with perfect abs... It'd be something like a topless fireman cuddling a kitten, or some English bobbies, in their hats but, again, topless, saving ducklings from a storm drain... Haha - all this to say: babysitter Sirius hits those buttons for me!