I Want the Fire Back
Summary: Hermione is obsolete – the War is over, Harry and Ron are busy, and she the mere Charms teacher at Hogwarts. When a presumably dead man comes back better than ever, she suddenly means everything... to him. SiHr
Rating: R for language, themes, sex, and whatever else may come out of my twisted little mind.
Disclaimer: It's not me who owns these characters or any plots associated with the Harry Potter books.
Around the time of the thirteenth year, he died. No, not physically, but his mind, his spirit, his essence became dead to the place of existence. The world… A shell of a human falling and twisting in a world of absolute pain and dark. He was no longer a man…
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Hermione slipped into Sirius' quarters, unnoticed by any living creature and padded uncertainly towards his bedroom. She could hear soft moaning, and she blushed at the plague of raunchy thoughts that cascaded into her head. Of course, leave it to Padfoot to have that affect on an, ahem, innocent. Her dirty thoughts were immediately erased as she heard Sirius cry out, and she hurried inside.
He was perspiring slightly whilst thrashing about on his bed. Knowing that he was having nightmares, and knowing firsthand of the horrors your mind could inflict upon you in sleep, Hermione shook Sirius severely. His black eyes flew open and she gasped at the haunted look in them. The look was soon overcome with his silent tears, and her heart warmed with sympathy. So many countless nights had she woken up the same exact way… only with no one there to comfort her.
"Oh baby, shh… it's okay," she sat on the edge of the bed smoothing Sirius' damp hair gently. He whimpered and buried his face in her stomach as she instinctively wrapped her arms around him. Hermione was a little perturbed at how easily the words of comfort had came out, and in terms that one would use to console a lover.
"I'm fine; I'm okay…" Sirius whispered after a few minutes, pulling away from a still soothing Hermione. She looked at him concernedly, judging for herself if he was indeed, fine and okay.
"Really, 'Mione. Just a memory, I'm fine." She noticed how he said 'memory' instead of 'dream'. Just like her…
She looked down awkwardly, feeling foolish, as she knew he would soon be wondering just why she was in his room in the middle of the night. Before he could say anything, though, she spoke up. "Do you wanna… talk about it?" Looking up from her dark lashes, she saw his attractive face close off like it did when Remus and Harry had brought up his location of the past five years.
"No, I'm fine." He lightened slightly, something she saw him do when a conversation got too deep or edgy. Crack a joke, make a little fun. It was what Sirius Black was all about. "But do you maybe have something to say? Being in my bed this late at night, Professor Granger, might cause some suspicious thoughts to arise of us."
She blushed crimson, thanking for the cover of darkness night was providing.
"Couldn't sleep." She faintly recalled her determination of a few minutes ago, ranting about how she didn't care what the consequences were of coming here tonight. The consequences of visiting a sexually deprived man of 20 years in his bed in the middle of the night… Maybe, because, the consequences wouldn't be all that consequential to her – maybe they would be just what she wanted.
Deciding to pull a move she had never done before, Hermione lowered her body onto his, which was, nicely propped up against his pillows in a pleasant manner. His dark eyes widened, but there was no sign of any protest in his gaze. Confusion, maybe, lust, yes, and need, definitely. Her gaze was an exact replica of emotion.
She was doing things she didn't understand – but most of all, she didn't care. She felt excitement…
Slightly recovering, Sirius found his voice was husky as he spoke. "Granger, what are you doing?"
She didn't like it when he called her by her surname – it reminded her that he was related to Ginny's Draco, who stilled called her that. Not that the relation was a bad thing, necessarily – it just made her realize that Sirius was, in fact, still twice her age. Oh well, love knows no boundar – did I just say love? No, I didn't say anything; I thought it. Oh, well, did I just think love? Yes, yes you did. Now, question is, did you mean it?
"Don't call me that – and I'm doing exactly what I want to do," she seemed so proud that she was taking a dive in the pool of life, that Sirius couldn't help but chuckle. "Well that's fine with me, love, but could you mind moving a little to the left? Crushing the package there."
Package? What was he talking ab-? Oh. OH. Left, 'Mione, left. She shifted her weight fervently, earning the reward of another sensual laugh from Sirius.
Although embarrassed, she was pleased to see that he had recovered quite quickly from his fretful sleep, and grinned. Until, she realized just how hungrily the Dog Star was looking at her. His amount of wanting enticed her and made her nervous. She knew then that she couldn't make the first move past where she had gotten.
"Kiss me, Sirius?" she whispered, and in that moment he decided that he loved the way she spoke his name. As if it were a beautiful noise that only the highest of beings should hear.
All the man could do was respond – and with a little more tongue than talking required. His mouth ravaged hers; savoring every sweet taste she had to offer. At this, Hermione's anxiety burned away to be replaced with a fire in her skin. Every part of her was alight with need and lust. Never had she felt this for anyone before… never had she expected you could feel this for anyone. When Ginny had spoken to Hermione about her passion towards their ex-enemy Draco, she had nodded and expressed how wonderful it sounded. She had not fully understood until now… not at all.
Ensure me of just how to be myself inside
Sirius pulled away, gasping for breath and decided this was not enough. Not enough contact, not enough skin, not enough of her to satisfy him… He flipped them over so that he lay now on top of her, and she gasped in surprise, instinct and wanting taking over. No consequences…
I'm in control of everything
It's taking time but that's ok
I can bring you to my side
The more experienced of the two began kissing down the other's slender neck, emitting a small groan from her throat. Hermione raked her hands down his chest and succeeded in pulling the hem of Sirius' shirt up and over his head. Her still roaming hands now slithered along his bare chest and abs, taking in every bit there was to touch and see. Sirius moaned into her flesh, and she smiled.
You're my blessing in disguise
You're mine (You're mine)
You're mine (You're mine)
Sirius bit her flesh lightly, getting a small yelp from his surprised partner. Hermione had also discovered another surprise of hers – now pressed against her thigh was Sirius' apparent (and I mean apparent) arousal. It was hard to believe she could have that affect on the former Hogwarts sex god. But she wasn't complaining.
You make me realize
Just how and where I want to be
Years from now
Black had not felt this way in years – the effect Hermione had on him was staggering. She was no tart, no tease, no quickie before bed. She was… different, but not inexplicably so. She was different because he cared for her, genuinely and openly, and he would never let anything happen to her… she was his.
When my focal point is set
I'm something I know I'll get
Whether she knew it, or wanted it, she had been his the moment she had asked for his kiss. A kiss that sealed the deal for him – she was his territory, primally and lovingly.
It's not a question of how but more of when
You are one commodity
His.
The choice is mine and mine for keeps
I can bring you to my side
And in that moment, as their flesh was set aflame by one another's arousing caresses, they belonged to a world that had not really meant anything to them for years. A sense of completeness, if you will. They mattered. If not to anyone else, they mattered to each other.
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Hermione woke the following morning, extremely more placid than the night before. She gathered her clothes quietly and left her lover's room. She was beyond confused… Last night had been blissfully wonderful, and she had denounced all thoughts of consequences. But that had been before she woke up and was hit with the reality of what she had done. Let's make a tidy little list, shall we?
1) I slept with my best friend's godfather.
2) He is recently returned from 'the dead' and is very undoubtedly not emotionally stable, thus him not being ready to jump into a relationship.
3) He has not had sex in twenty years but prior to that, had been extremely promiscuous. Thus, meaning he would have shagged anything in a skirt the previous night. Especially something in a skirt that happened to undramtically throw herself at him.
4) And now, she was hurt. She had started something he surely had meant to be meaningless, and in the act she had fallen for him.
Now I understand why people do think of consequences so bloody often…Hermione growled and pulled at her messy hair, frustrated to the point of crying.
He broke her heart and he didn't even know it. Also, it was the last thing he would ever dream of doing, considering he had fallen quite a bit himself.
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Sirius awoke a few hours after Hermione had left, and at first frowned at the cold sheets next to him. No goodbye again? Then he realized that she had probably just rushed off to class and didn't want to wake him so early. As if she had tired him out last night while it was clearly the other way around.
With a grin on his face and a jaunty little walk he traveled to the bathroom to shower and go down to the kitchens for breakfast…
He knew he shouldn't be with her – the age difference (not that that really mattered now), her relations with his godson, the fact that they had never gotten along before he had died. What was so different now? Well, now… she had matured a great deal, and they didn't bicker incessantly like before… and there was also all that nonsense about the Room of Requirement. That obviously meant something…
Maybe I'll visit Granger tonight in her room, and we can have a bit of a chat…
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That little 'chat' Sirius had hoped for did not take place that night in Hermione's room. Or anyone's room, for that matter. Nor did it the next night, nor the next… Hermione purposefully kept herself busy, knowing full well that if Sirius came near her again wanting the same treatment she had given him on that precarious night, she would give in just to make him happy. Even if it was just a using relationship, anything with him would have been wonderful… but degrading. She couldn't let herself become his tool – no matter how much she wanted to be. So, she avoided him. And well, too. She handed out detentions to the particularly nasty Slytherins, keeping them at late ungodly hours to avoid going back to her room too early. She was hoping that Sirius would be exhausted enough from his own days activities that he would already be asleep by the time she arrived in her quarters.
Sirius had little to do to be as busy as Hermione as his days mostly consisted of visiting with Remus, Dumbledore, and McGonagall, and the rare treat of Harry who was a busy high ranking Auror. Like his father…
And he was not as stupid as Hermione had hoped, either. He heard of her unnecessary detentions at late hours, and how she wandered the school at night with excuses of not being able to sleep well. She was putting herself through hell trying to avoid him; lack of sleeping was getting to her - the bags under her eyes were dark and purple, and she often fell face first into her breakfast in the Great Hall in the mornings. But she was very clever when it came to avoiding her one-night stand – as Sirius still had not cornered her. But he decided he would use the weekend to his advantage – he would get her.
It was Saturday night, around 8:30 and she was walking the grounds as the sun set artfully in the west. Her hair reflected the colors of the sky almost as well as the lake, and it made Sirius smile despite the fact that he was upset with her. So foolish, the valedictorian could be when she wanted to be. Comes with the stubbornness, I suppose…
In Snuffles' form, he followed her quietly, quite reminding anyone of just how he earned the nickname 'Padfoot'. As Hermione sat perched obliviously on a rock near the lake, he transformed a few feet behind her.
"I knew you'd find me," she sighed and scooted over on the rock to provide him with room without looking anywhere near his direction. This surprised him, but he took the offer nonetheless.
"Why did I have to find you, Hermione?" she continued staring out at the lake almost wistfully, wishing she were anywhere but there. She remained quiet, so Sirius found the worst possible likelihood of her avoidance and unleashed it.
"You regret what we did, don't you?" He looked down as if to emphasize his non-existing shame, and she turned to him sharply.
"No! I just… I'm confused, Sirius." Now it was his turn to look at her sharply. "So you just ignore the problem?"
She ignored the anger in his voice – after all, she had expected it – and replied softly, looking back towards the lake. "Call it what you want, but I really just needed some time to think it over." It was a half-truth, considering she didn't want to think about the issue but it sure did want to annoy her persistently.
"So, what have you decided?" Sirius turned to look at the lake also, only half admiring the colors and distortions the ripples provided.
This question she had not expected, but Hermione answered as best she could. "That I'd do it again if you came to me. If its what you want…"
He was outraged. "You think I just shagged you because… because I haven't got any for a while?!" She flinched at the harsh tone, but continued her blank stare. "How dare you think I'm that shallow- " She now turned to him in anger, and let all of her emotions from the past few days out in a fluent rant.
"How dare you talk to me as if I am some silly little child like I was five Goddam years ago, Sirius? I have been through a lot in those years, more than you think I have, and I have grown up pretty quickly. And now, now that I'm done with the War and my friends dying, you come along and fuck everything up!" She regretted it instantly, and felt horrible... She made it sound as if his supposed death was better than him being back. But he took no notice of the personal insult, and instead analyzed her.
"You were miserable! And you know you were! Your best friends barely talk to you – I saw it that day in Dumbledore's office, Hermione. You grew distant – Ron and Harry moved on after the War, away from Hogwarts, and your friend Ginny is busy with her boyfriend Draco, and the only person you've talked to conversationally in months is Remus. Your life became a routine – and I changed that. And you know what? Not to sound cocky or anything, but I'm damn sure I changed it for the good."
She gasped, knowing he was right but hating to admit it. "I'm not angry because you upset my routine, Sirius. I'm grateful for that. I'm upset because… well, because we had sex. Sex." He looked at her as if she had just began foaming at the mouth and muttering satanically. "We didn't make love. We just had sex. And… it was sex without any emotion… sex." She spat the word as if it were a horrid thing.
Sirius squeezed his eyes shut painfully, wishing that she hadn't said that. "You didn't feel any… any, emotion when we had sex? It was just sex to you?" He ran a hand through his hair, heaving a sigh.
"No! You… you were the one who didn't feel anything… when we…" Hermione trailed off now, realizing how horrendously assumptious she had been to think that. She was so insecure that she had built up all of these lies to keep herself from being hurt…
Instead of responding angrily, Sirius laughed. Her brown eyes met his black ones in shock. "My dear 'Mione, I felt so many emotions that night that I was surprised I could drag myself off of your beautiful body to stop expressing them to you physically." Hermione blushed scarlet at his scandalous words that brought back vivid memories to her mind and her skin.
He continued, taking her expressions as a plea to go on. "I… felt as if I were bloody Romeo in that sodding Shakespeare play. I mean, Jesus, the things I felt for you were so sudden and strong that it confused me, much like you are now… But I knew, I just knew, that it was more than lust. It was lo-"
He was silenced with Hermione's full lips on his.
"You talk too much, Romeo."
"By my heel, I care not," Sirius quoted artfully as Hermione laughed, and kissed him again.
"That was Mercutio, not Romeo, love."
"Well I always thought that Mercutio was better with the ladies anyways…"
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A/N: Sorry if the end was a bit confusing, with the Shakespeare and such. If you didn't know, Mercutio is Romeo's best friend, whose name is linked to the adjective mercurial. The song was Taproot's Mine.This isn't a songfic, don't fret. It just seemed to fit. But please review, I promise Weasley twins in the next chapter, humor, chaos, food (haha, had to add that in there for some benign reason), Remus and Tonks, and Ginny and Draco. Well basically it's a weekend get together at the Weasley's, if you couldn't tell. Review!