A/N: Things get a little bit lighter…and we find out what Sirius has done with himself ;)
Belligerence
Chapter 02: Hasn't Stopped Raining For Days
She had every intent of taking a cup of coffee, sitting down in her living room and vegging out with a good book for numerous hours. And then she would drift off to sleep and wake up the next morning to the very same routine – as she had every night for the past year.
That was the intent, anyway.
But after she'd woken up from her quick nap on the stool, disgusted to find that her tea had degraded itself to less-than-lukewarm, she'd dumped it down the drain and started all over again, feeling a bit more refreshed. Less muddled with her thoughts, at any rate.
But after deciding to fix a mug of coffee and flip through her Muggle television for a bit, she was a bit more than startled to see her door flung open and the hallway outside completely empty.
That was what she saw, anyway.
But then Harry had taken off his invisibility cloak, and found himself having to deal with a hysterical Hermione permanently attaching herself to him, arms flung around his neck desperately, exclaiming crazy things about thinking he was dead and wondering why he hadn't come back sooner and that Ron was going to be even more hysterical than she – 'Not a pleasant thought,' he'd thought to himself.
And once he'd managed to put some space between the two of them, the first thing she did was run off to the kitchen and start making him a cup of coffee. There was no way she was going to let him disappear again, off to save the world for the umpteenth time. He was going to stay right at home and answer a few questions.
"Like what?" he asked, as she set the coffee before him and took a seat across the counter.
She shrugged, dumping a generous amount of cream into her coffee. "Well, for one, like…gee, Harry, where the hell have you been?!"
He smirked slightly as he lifted the mug to his lips, sipping on it to keep from getting his tongue burnt. He shrugged.
"You don't know? Oh, don't give me that. You know! You have to know, because no one else does!"
He sighed, setting the mug down on the counter and leaned forward on his elbows, a lock of ebony hair dangling in his eyes. "Well, I do know. I just can't tell you, really."
"And that just makes it so much better."
He sat back, rubbing his hands together to warm them. His hair was still wet from the rain outside. "Trust me, I'd like to tell you. But it's not like you haven't kept secrets from me, before."
"I have not! I told you everything that I could about my job!"
"And I'm telling you everything that I can about mine. Absolutely nothing."
She rolled her eyes and shoved her coffee to the side. She'd lost interest in it. "You don't expect me to believe that, do you?"
"Look, Hermione, I really didn't come here to be interrogated, despite what you may think. I've been fine for the whole time I was gone, and that's what's important, right? I just have my own life now…one that doesn't include you and Ron."
"So why'd you suddenly decide to come back, if you don't need us anymore?"
He looked appalled. "I never said that!"
"You may as well have. You meant it, well enough."
Rolling his eyes, he stood from his stool and began pacing the length of the tiny kitchen. "I don't know what you're thinking, Hermione, but whatever it is, it's wrong. Just wrong. I need you and Ron because you're the only people I care about, don't you understand?"
She propped her head up with her hands then, leaning her forehead against the palms of her hands. "Oh, how did we ever get on this subject? You're home, I should be glad. Instead, I can't help being mad at you, at the same time…"
He smiled sardonically, reminding her of Sirius. "That would be called mother intuition. But that's even more wrong than before, so I won't go any further on that matter."
"I'm glad." She dropped her hands, the skin red on her face, where she had rubbed viscously at her eyes. "Harry, we've been worried sick. Everyone thinks you're dead. I almost did…but Ginny convinced me of otherwise."
He gave her an inquisitive look, settling back on the stool. "Ginny? When'd you speak to her?"
"Today, actually. Right after…" She paused. He blinked, nodding to prompt her on. "Well, Harry…Fred died."
He made no reaction. She stared at him for a moment, waiting for him to say something, to do something – act surprised, Harry! For God's sake, you're not completely inhuman!
Finally, he shrugged and looked away from her. "I know. I heard."
"H-how? Ron doesn't even know yet."
He looked back at her, a dead expression on his face. His eyes had gone from their usual vibrant green to dull, murky seawater. "I have my connections."
She straightened her back, narrowing her eyes slightly as she returned his look. "Your job, you mean."
He nodded.
She threw her hands into the air and leapt off of her stool, stalking towards the living room. He jumped up after her, grabbing her by the arms as she tried to shake him off. "Hermione! Will you listen to me?! I can't tell you about this job because it'll put you in danger!"
With a rough shrug, she wrenched one arm free of his grasp, only to have it retrieved once more. "Harry! Let me go!"
He did, instantly.
Backing away slightly, she glared at him with a fury worthy of a Malfoy. "Harry…why is it always about you? Don't you think I don't know that? Do you honestly think that I'm just another Parvati Patil, waiting at home for the men to handle things? I'm fighting this too, Harry! I'm in danger anyway! Nothing you could tell me – nothing – would make me any worse off than I already am!"
He was near gawking now. "You are not in danger. Trust me."
She crossed her arms over her chest, rolling her eyes mockingly. "Oh, no, that's right. I've got a sniper following me just to watch my back, Harry. I go about my daily business like normal, and when I feel a Muggle gun on my back, it's not someone that wants to kill me. It's someone that wants to give me a warning. Yeah, and you're Merlin!"
He drew in a deep breath, his jaw set in a firm line as he fought to control his rising rage. Turning back to the counter, he snatched up his invisibility cloak and dumped the remaining dregs of his coffee into her sink. "Just forget it," he muttered. "Forget I ever came back. I knew it wasn't right." He tossed his cloak over his head and she lost sight of him.
Hermione's shoulders drooped, and she sighed heavily, walking towards where she had last seen him. "Harry…Harry, don't go. We need to fix this, Harry…I can't let you go on such bad terms…!"
She heard the door slam. He was gone.
She went back to the living room and dropped herself on the couch, throwing one arm over her eyes. How could she have let this happen? Harry was her best friend…she hadn't meant to yell…but she was so frustrated. Maybe that was all it was. Just frustration. He'd come back tomorrow morning, and everything would be so much easier then. Ron would be home in a few days, and he could have it out with Harry all he wanted, because she was done. She wasn't going to yell anymore. She needed Harry and Ron too much to yell at them now.
"Oh, what have I done?" she groaned. "I'm not mad at him…The last thing I want is him mad at me…"
"Don't worry, he's not."
Startled, she sprang back up, looking around wildly. Had he come back? That had been his voice, she was positive…
But no, she heard a slight rustling sound coming from across the room, and then saw him lowering the hood to his cloak, seated on her favorite armchair. He was giving her a watery smile. "Invisibility cloak, remember? I never left."
Her astonished expression went to one of fury, and she yanked up the first thing she saw – a white cushion – and chucked it at his head. She missed by a good four feet.
He snorted, giving her a bemused expression. "Is that all you can do? By all means, have at it, then."
Biting her lip to keep herself from grinning, she grabbed the rest of the cushions on the sofa, and leapt to her feet, chucking them at him as she advanced on him.
He rose his arms defensively, warding off the worst of the blows, but by the time she had only one cushion left, she was standing right in front of him, the pillow raised over her head like a sword. "Oh, it's payback time," she hissed.
Without warning, he sideswiped her, taking her legs out from under her, and she went tumbling to the ground, the pillow flying out of her arms. She was vaguely aware of his hands pinning her arms down.
He was laughing. "First rule of the Belligerents – never let a weaker enemy win."
She pushed him off, and sat up, her eyes wide. "Belligerents?"
Running a hand through his hair in a vain attempt to straighten it, he nodded, still sprawled on the floor in front of the chair. "Yes, I told you. Happy now?"
"No!" she exclaimed. "Harry! What on earth are you doing with those people? They're warlords!"
He rolled his eyes and sat up, leaning back against the coffee table. "That's just a rumor. They're really very good people, you know. A bit testy if they don't get their cup of joe every morning, and you better watch out if they're armed, but other than that…really very kindly folk." He wore a sideways smirk as he said this, hair dangling in his eyes once more.
It was her turn to be near gawking. "So you really are a Belligerent?"
He nodded. "And you're really a member of WAR."
The near gawk turned into a full gawk. "How'd you know about that?"
He hauled himself to his feet then, and offered a hand down to help her up. "Belligerents, remember? We can find out anything that we want to – provided that we have the permit, of course."
Taking his hand, she got up as well, and raised an eyebrow at him. "Oh, so you got a permit to look up stuff about my private life, huh? What's my mother's maiden name?"
"Holden, but that's beside the point. I didn't get the permit, Zeusia did."
"Who's Zeusia?"
Harry glanced toward the window as he leered secretively, steering her towards the kitchen. "The Almighty Goddess herself, but she likes to be known as my boss."
Hermione followed as he pushed her back into the kitchen, sitting her down on her stool. "That's probably what I missed the most, you know," she told him.
He glanced at her as he skirted around the counter, sitting across from her once more. "What is?"
"Your sarcasm. You just inject such a bitter hostility that really adds to the humor, you know? Most people have to fake it."
"Ha ha. Very funny."
"I learned from the best."
Harry rolled his eyes and went over to the coffee maker, wrinkling his nose as he stared down at the pot. "What's all this stuff do?"
Hermione swiveled around in her stool to see what he was looking at. "Hm? Honestly, Harry, have you been immersed in the wizarding world for that long?"
He shrugged. "The Dursleys never drank coffee. They didn't do a lot of things that 'normal' Muggles did…and they always thought I was the weird one."
She got up and went about fixing another pot of coffee, waving him aside as he tried to help. "Stop that, you oaf. It's like potions, and you were never very good at those."
He glowered at her. "That was hurtful."
"And I had every intention of it being such. Now go sit down like a good little boy."
He snorted. "Since when have I ever been good?"
She paused for a moment, looking off in thought. "You know, I honestly don't remember. I think the last time you were pure of thought was the first day on the Hogwarts Express – just before you met Ron."
He laughed, pulling two fresh coffee mugs out of her cupboard. "You're probably right, but don't tell him I said that. He'd probably try to turn me yellow."
She looked over her shoulder at him, raising an eyebrow. "Huh?"
He looked up at her. "What?"
"What's this about turning you yellow?"
"Oh. That." He waved a dismissive hand in the air, setting the mugs on the counter. "He tried to turn Scabbers yellow the day we met. Remember? It was a prank spell that Fred and George taught him."
She nodded. "Yeah, I remember now." But she had looked away at the mention of the Weasley twins. His tone had grown a bit more subdued as he named them, but he tried to shrug it off. An uncomfortable silence passed between them as Hermione turned away from the coffeepot, letting it drip.
Harry finally cleared his throat, and looked up at her. "So how's George?" he finally asked.
She blinked for a moment, and then her lips parted in stunned realization. "Oh no…you don't know, do you?"
He froze. "Don't tell me…"
She shook her head slowly. "No…no, not dead. But part of the reason that Fred is, apparently."
"What makes you say that?"
"Well, one of the last things he said to me was 'my other half is gone.'"
Harry sighed, dropping down onto his stool as he let his forehead rest atop his arms, groaning quietly. "He's as good as dead then, isn't he?" he murmured.
Hermione leaned against her side of the counter, reaching out to brush a lock of his hair back. "No…I don't think so. He was in a coma, the last I heard, Harry. It's only been a month or so…he has a pretty good chance."
He lifted his head, and she could see bright splotches of red dotting his cheeks. "He can't die, Hermione. He just can't."
She tilted her head to the side a bit, her eyes softening with concern. "I know, it would be awful."
"You don't understand," he whispered. "He can't die."
"Why not?"
"I couldn't handle another death, Hermione. Another death caused by me…I can't handle that."
She fell silent, and then wordlessly skirted the counter, pulling him off of the stool and embracing him in a tight hug. His head fell onto her shoulder and his arms wrapped themselves around her waist. She closed her eyes and breathed in his scent of soap and shaving cream before pulling slowly away, staring into his eyes, and searching for any more remorse that he may have been trying to hide.
He looked away, running a shaky hand through his hair. "I'll be all right," he said quietly.
"No you won't," she answered.
He looked back at her, his hand falling back to his side. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"Harry, the Belligerents are not for you…they're cold, heartless killers. They think they're making peace, but they're doing it the wrong way. They're all about being emotionless – living life without living it. You're not like that, Harry. You're the farthest person from it."
He shrugged, giving her a sardonic smile as he settled back on the stool, cupping his chin with one hand. "They may be, but it's where I belong."
"But you're not happy there. How can you say that?"
"Because I have nowhere else to go, Hermione. I have no one but you, Ron, and Sirius – Merlin knows where he is these days – to count on, I have nothing else in life. I never had a family. The Dursleys hated me, you know that. I never had a home to go to during holidays. All I had was Hogwarts, and now that's been completely desecrated, destroyed, what have you. There is no more Hogwarts. There's no more Voldemort. But the evil took the good with it, Hermione. All that's left in my world is darkness. It's one big, empty void, and I'm scared to take a step forward, because I might fall off a cliff. At least you've got the murky, gray reassurance that someone'll catch you."
And she put her arms around him again, hugging even more tightly, even after she became aware that she was probably cutting off his air supply. "I'll catch you, Harry. And so will Ron."
"Mr. Black?"
Sirius groaned, one hand covering his eyes as he tried in vain to nurse a forthcoming migraine, but it didn't make matters any better. "Yes, Priscilla?"
"There's a message for you waiting on the Network. Should I forward it to your office?"
He nodded as he rubbed at his eyes, trying to keep them open long enough to look awake and lively – two things he hadn't known for well over a year.
Priscilla disappeared, closing his door behind her, and he turned to look into his fireplace, leaning his desk chair back. It took a moment, but soon the flames were turning a nasty red color, and then flickered from blue to green, and finally back to their normal orange, as a head appeared in the midst of them.
"Hey, Sirius!" Hermione said, positively glowing.
Sirius blinked once, then twice for good measure. "Hermione? Shouldn't you be sleeping? It's two in the morning there!"
She just grinned at him. "I should be, yeah, but I've got a surprise for you."
He rose one inquisitive eyebrow. "I know you too well, Hermione. You've been hanging around those Weasleys too long…don't tell me they've devised another prank…"
"I'm afraid that's impossible now, Sirius. Fred's no longer with us," came a much more subdued voice.
Sirius leaned forward in his chair, his eyes growing wide as dinner plates. "Harry?"
"The one and only."
Sirius got off of his chair and crawled towards the fireplace on his knees. "I don't believe it! I thought you were dead!"
Harry just shrugged, blowing a few wisps of fire away from his mouth as he spoke. "That's what I've been hearing. I assure you; I'm alive and well. I'll be staying with Hermione for awhile, just so you know."
Sirius sat back on his heels, and held up a hand for Harry to silence himself for a moment. "Priscilla!" he called out.
The door swung open a moment later, and his secretary, a thin and gum-snapping young witch, poked her head inside, her perfectly-made-up lips pursed in curiosity. "Yes, Mr. Black?"
"Get me a connection to #1762 on the Floo Network, as soon as you possibly can. And cancel all of my appointments for the rest of this week."
Popping her gum in answer, she took her head back out of the room, and closed the door.
Sirius looked back to his fireplace, grinning from ear to ear. "I'll be there by morning, Harry. Tell Hermione to make a bed for me on the couch, I'll probably just sleep all day."
Harry shook his head at his godfather, disbelieving his unpredictability. "You're unbelievable, Sirius. You really are. Don't you have to work or something, like normal people?"
"But you forget, I'm not normal."
Hermione was now in the midst of the flames, having shoved Harry aside. "I'll make you a bed, Sirius, don't worry. You can stay as long as you like."
Sirius smiled toothily at her and saluted. "Always on task, Ms. Granger – as expected. I think you deserve a raise for this one."
She grinned at him, and grunted as Harry shoved her aside once more. "What's this about a raise? Sirius…are you Hermione's boss?"
Sirius bit his lip to keep from grinning again, and stood up, holding his back as it groaned in protest. He didn't answer Harry.
"SIRIUS!"
"Goodnight, Harry." He waved a hand, and fire disappeared into a pile of glowing embers, but he could still hear Harry calling out to him. "Answer me, Snuffles!"
Sirius just shook his head as he sat back on his desk chair, and leaned his head back, spinning around in a daze. So he was going home again…this was going to be interesting, all right.