Part Thirteen:
Ah, Azkaban. Twelve years without any contact with man...let alone a woman.
Anyway, sex was one of the last things on my mind. Until I got out, that is. The manwhore in me wouldn't die.
I looked horrible when I got out. I hadn't had a shower or haircut in years. Yuck. Who would want me now? I thought as I stood in front of the cracked mirror of an abandoned Muggle home, one of my hiding places.
Um, you'd be surprised...
But out of pure shame, I won't get into it. Let's just say that there were a couple of willing homeless women out there, who had no idea who I was, who just wanted someone to spend the night with...
I had a mission to accomplish. Nothing could take my mind off of killing Peter Pettigrew and saving my godson. I thought of Lily all the time, the memory of her kept me going. Her son was in danger, and I was the only one who knew the truth.
Well, things didn't go exactly as I planned. Damn that Pettigrew, he got away. But I was momentarily distracted...by her.
The first (halfway decent-looking) female that I'd been in close range with in twelve years. She actually reminded me a little bit of Tallie, whom had moved to Australia when I'd last heard. Big brown eyes, bushy brown hair. The promblem? She was less then half my age.
That's right. I fell for Hermione.
Of course, I couldn't tell her how I felt. She's be disgusted with me, and I wouldn't be able to blame her. Besides, she clearly had a thing for Harry's best friend, Ron. Oh, my God, was my love life always such a goddamn soap opera?
I tried to take my mind off her. She was only 13 when I met her. I mean, my first real girlfriend, years at Hogwarts, had been about that age. Isabella. It had been a really, really long time since I'd thought about her.
In fact, I hadn't thought of any of them in a long time. But when I was trapped in number twelve, Grimmauld Place (the hell hole I grew up in), I had a ton of time to think. Memories of all of them came flooding back to them. The way I broke Isabella's heart. The way Willow broke mine. The way I'd used Daphne, and the way Ruthie used me. Courtney. Oh, God, Courtney.
And Lily.
And who was the girl with the older brother? Chelsea, yeah. Bitch.
But I had to stop thinking about them. The memory of each of them, even Cecilia, made me hurt a little.
When Hermione came with the Weasleys to the headquarters, I was given a temporary distraction.
I tried to avoid her for the first couple of days. But everything changed one night, when I couldn't sleep...
I went to Buckbeak's room, aka my mother's room, to think. The small bedroom I'd grown up in felt too cramped. I'd felt like the walls were closing in on me. But the master bedroom was huge. Perfect.
I was laying on my back, staring at the top of the canopy bed and listening to Buckbeak's loud snoring when I heard someone enter the room. I sat up quickly. "Whose there?"
"Sirius?" a timid voice asked, surprised.
"Hermione?"
"Oh, my God," I heard her mumble. Then a little louder, "Um, sorry, I didn't know you were staying in here. Good night..."
"Wait!" I stood up suddenly, and went towards her. The moonlight streaming in from the window bathed her in pale light. "What are you doing in here?"
"I, um, I couldn't sleep, so, um-"
"I'm not staying in here," I said quickly as she backed towards the door. "I couldn't sleep, either. Why don't you stay for awhile..." What was I doing?
"Um..." Our eyes met. I could see the sweet, refreshing innocence in them.
"Okay," she agreed in a whisper. I led her to the bed, sitting back by the headboard. She, reluctantly, sat at the foot of the bed.
"I don't bite," I said with a smile. She smiled back, nervously. Is she afraid of me? I thought. I edged closer to her. "Hermione, there's something I have to tell you." I was filled with a sudden boldness, a nothing-to-lose bravery.
"Um...okay."
"Hermione, I..." I took a deep breath. Can I tell her? I had to. "...haven't been able to stop thinking about you. Ever since I first met you, I..."
"Sirius," she whispered weakly. I put her head in my lap, and she stared up at me. I bent down and kissed her forehead.
And to my surprise, she took me by the face, leaning up and kissing my lips. I could tell that she'd kissed before. This is wrong, a voice in my head screamed. Sick! Wrong! She's only fourteen...
But I ignored the voice as Hermione whispered, "Sirius?"
"What?"
"Let's..."
Could she possibly mean...? This was too good to be true! I picked her up, placing her head on the pillow. I started to remove her pajama bottoms, but I looked at her. "Are you sure?" I asked softly.
"Yes."
I got on top of her and kissed her again. Then I began to work my way down. And it was all a blur from there...
Ah, Azkaban. Twelve years without any contact with man...let alone a woman.
Anyway, sex was one of the last things on my mind. Until I got out, that is. The manwhore in me wouldn't die.
I looked horrible when I got out. I hadn't had a shower or haircut in years. Yuck. Who would want me now? I thought as I stood in front of the cracked mirror of an abandoned Muggle home, one of my hiding places.
Um, you'd be surprised...
But out of pure shame, I won't get into it. Let's just say that there were a couple of willing homeless women out there, who had no idea who I was, who just wanted someone to spend the night with...
I had a mission to accomplish. Nothing could take my mind off of killing Peter Pettigrew and saving my godson. I thought of Lily all the time, the memory of her kept me going. Her son was in danger, and I was the only one who knew the truth.
Well, things didn't go exactly as I planned. Damn that Pettigrew, he got away. But I was momentarily distracted...by her.
The first (halfway decent-looking) female that I'd been in close range with in twelve years. She actually reminded me a little bit of Tallie, whom had moved to Australia when I'd last heard. Big brown eyes, bushy brown hair. The promblem? She was less then half my age.
That's right. I fell for Hermione.
Of course, I couldn't tell her how I felt. She's be disgusted with me, and I wouldn't be able to blame her. Besides, she clearly had a thing for Harry's best friend, Ron. Oh, my God, was my love life always such a goddamn soap opera?
I tried to take my mind off her. She was only 13 when I met her. I mean, my first real girlfriend, years at Hogwarts, had been about that age. Isabella. It had been a really, really long time since I'd thought about her.
In fact, I hadn't thought of any of them in a long time. But when I was trapped in number twelve, Grimmauld Place (the hell hole I grew up in), I had a ton of time to think. Memories of all of them came flooding back to them. The way I broke Isabella's heart. The way Willow broke mine. The way I'd used Daphne, and the way Ruthie used me. Courtney. Oh, God, Courtney.
And Lily.
And who was the girl with the older brother? Chelsea, yeah. Bitch.
But I had to stop thinking about them. The memory of each of them, even Cecilia, made me hurt a little.
When Hermione came with the Weasleys to the headquarters, I was given a temporary distraction.
I tried to avoid her for the first couple of days. But everything changed one night, when I couldn't sleep...
I went to Buckbeak's room, aka my mother's room, to think. The small bedroom I'd grown up in felt too cramped. I'd felt like the walls were closing in on me. But the master bedroom was huge. Perfect.
I was laying on my back, staring at the top of the canopy bed and listening to Buckbeak's loud snoring when I heard someone enter the room. I sat up quickly. "Whose there?"
"Sirius?" a timid voice asked, surprised.
"Hermione?"
"Oh, my God," I heard her mumble. Then a little louder, "Um, sorry, I didn't know you were staying in here. Good night..."
"Wait!" I stood up suddenly, and went towards her. The moonlight streaming in from the window bathed her in pale light. "What are you doing in here?"
"I, um, I couldn't sleep, so, um-"
"I'm not staying in here," I said quickly as she backed towards the door. "I couldn't sleep, either. Why don't you stay for awhile..." What was I doing?
"Um..." Our eyes met. I could see the sweet, refreshing innocence in them.
"Okay," she agreed in a whisper. I led her to the bed, sitting back by the headboard. She, reluctantly, sat at the foot of the bed.
"I don't bite," I said with a smile. She smiled back, nervously. Is she afraid of me? I thought. I edged closer to her. "Hermione, there's something I have to tell you." I was filled with a sudden boldness, a nothing-to-lose bravery.
"Um...okay."
"Hermione, I..." I took a deep breath. Can I tell her? I had to. "...haven't been able to stop thinking about you. Ever since I first met you, I..."
"Sirius," she whispered weakly. I put her head in my lap, and she stared up at me. I bent down and kissed her forehead.
And to my surprise, she took me by the face, leaning up and kissing my lips. I could tell that she'd kissed before. This is wrong, a voice in my head screamed. Sick! Wrong! She's only fourteen...
But I ignored the voice as Hermione whispered, "Sirius?"
"What?"
"Let's..."
Could she possibly mean...? This was too good to be true! I picked her up, placing her head on the pillow. I started to remove her pajama bottoms, but I looked at her. "Are you sure?" I asked softly.
"Yes."
I got on top of her and kissed her again. Then I began to work my way down. And it was all a blur from there...
