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Summary: Hermione is obsolete – the War is over, Harry and Ron are busy, and she the mere Charms teacher at Hogwarts.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.
Chapter 6: More Than You Know
"That was probably one of the most interesting dinners I've had for a long time, mate. Thanks for the entertainment," Draco smiled at Sirius as he and Ginny made to apparate back to their flat. The flat that they shared… Which had been revealed the previous year at another most dramatic dinner.
"No problem, kid," Black grinned impishly as his younger cousin vanished with a pop! along with his redheaded vixen.
Hermione remained quietly embarrassed the rest of the evening, and was now eager to return to Hogwarts.
Sirius noticed this and spoke his goodbyes quickly. Hermione did the same, quietly whispering a thanks to Fred and George for the distraction, to which they both wore identical smirks.
They flooed back to Hogwarts (you could not apparate on Hogwarts grounds, as we all know) and entered Hermione's room, which Crookshanks quickly darted out of in search of Mrs. Norris. Crookshanks loved to annoy the older blasphemous cat, much to Sirius' delight.
Hermione flopped face first on her still made bed and groaned loudly. Sirius raised and eyebrow and laughed. "Tough night?" Her response was a badly aimed pillow, which bounced off the wall next to him.
"Don't fret, love, they'll get used to it. They all care too much about you to be upset – they were just shocked, is all," he sat down next to her sprawled form on the bed and began rubbing her shoulders soothingly. Damn those hands, Hermione thought as she moaned into the pillow. She began to drift back into her thoughts about the evening, and the real reason Ron was so upset. He was worried that she would get hurt by Sirius, yes, but also that that happening would damage her entire hope of a relationship with someone she loved. He believed her… fragile after what happened during the War. The night of the last battle… When she was held captive by Death Eaters. But if nothing, that had made her stronger, more callous, not fragile. For months afterwards, her body was numb to the touch of anyone… she didn't care – her body was not hers to protect. It didn't matter. It was theirs… they had used it, and made it belong to them. It wasn't hers anymore.
And it was time to tell Sirius this. But not only that, but also that he made her feel her body once again… made her be aware of his touch, and how it could be so gentle and pleasing… He gave her the ability to touch again, the ability to feel.
He was still massaging her shoulders when she pulled her head up from the depths of the comfortable mattress to meet his eyes. His face was innocent for the moment, and curious. He could tell she had something to say… he always could.
"Er…" was all she said as she sat up completely, causing Sirius to stop massaging. He frowned lightly, expecting that the conversation about to occur wouldn't be pleasant.
"'Mione?" his voice seemed like a whimper, alike to a dog in fear of something luminous and terrible.
She realized that he didn't have any idea of what was about to become common knowledge to him.
She placed her hand on his thigh in an action of comfort, and spoke softly.
"You're unaware of some details of the War…"
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After Hermione began, she didn't realize how hard it would be to stop. She told him in great detail, even greater than she had told the Aurors and Harry and Ron and Dumbledore – told him how Lucius Malfoy had raped her repeatedly. How Peter Pettigrew had tried to – countless times – but couldn't succeed. Instead, he blamed her for his incompetence, and beat her to the point of death. She spoke of how her mind had almost broken, but she let her mind and body separate, so that she could no longer feel the filthy creatures violating her. Then how, later that night, Harry, Ron, Draco, Ginny and the rest of the Order had barged in. She left out the part of Harry dueling Voldemort, Ron taking down a few Death Eaters, and Ginny healing the wounded Aurors, for Sirius already knew this. Instead, she recalled how Draco had came in to see her lying motionless of the floor as his own father beat her and took advantage of her body. He had been enraged, and within moments Lucius Malfoy lay dead on the floor, pants around his ankles, by the hand of his one and only son. She seemed to awaken at this moment and joined the battle, hate and anger fueling her. Surprisingly, she was not after Lucius' or Pettigrew's blood. She hated them, yes, but they had only hurt her physically. She wanted Bellatrix. The one who had caused her emotional pain.
And she got her. Sprawled across the floor next to her feet, her wand casting Crucio repetitively, as if she had done the spell her whole life.
She lifted the curse, and watched calmly as Bellatrix dribbled blood from her mouth and nose. Then she became as much a murderer as any person who wanted righteous vengeance could be.
Sirius was not at a loss of words by the end of her tale, as shocked as he was. He looked over the fact that she had avenged his death and not her own contravention, and instead focused on Wormtail. He had touched her, hurt her, in the most disgusting and profane ways one could ever dream of. And he was still alive.
"He will not get away with this," Sirius spoke in a deadly tranquil voice, standing abruptly. Hermione looked up, confused.
"Who?"
"Wormtail. Peter Pettigrew has lived long enough!" his anger finally shone through as his voice rose, and he strode towards the door.
"Sirius! Stop! He's in Azkaban! You can't-" she pleaded, her voice high and worried. He would not do anything drastic enough to land him back in prison – not after he had just came back from the dead.
He was already in the hall, running as fast as he possibly could to Dumbledore's office. He was meaning to floo to Azkaban. And kill the bastard that had ruined his entire life. No, not his entire life. Only his youth – he still has the rest of his life. And he will not screw that up just because of something that happened to me a year ago.
Determined as much as any Gryffindor could be, she darted out the still open door to stop the man she loved from destroying the rest his life. A life he would spend with her, not in some damn prison.
She could hear his feet hitting the floor fervently as he ran, and she struggled to catch up, wishing her legs were as extensive and strong as his, but to no avail.
She turned the last corner just in time to see the gargoyle statue of Dumbledore's office entrance retreat back into place.
"Fuck!" she screamed the scream of a desperate woman as she came upon the statue and yelled the password. She knew Sirius well enough that he was capable of doing what he wanted to do. He could accomplish the murder of Peter Pettigrew tonight.
But he wouldn't.
Praying that Dumbledore had been in his office at the moment of Sirius' entrance, preventing him from rash behavior, Hermione wrenched open the door and stumbled into the office to the sight of Sirius holding floo powder in one hand and speaking, "Azka-"
Without taking the time to yell out a much-needed dramatic "No!", Hermione Granger launched herself across the room and onto Sirius, knocking him to the floor before he could finish the word.
"Get off of me!" he screamed in blind anger, kicking like a three year old having a tantrum.
"No, Sirius! You can't get into Azkaban with your wand, anyways. You won't make it past the guards!"
Neither seemed to remember he was an unregistered Animagus (he could easily hide his wand as Snuffles) as he replied, "I don't need a wand to rip that fucker's throat out."
"No! You're not a murderer, Sirius! And you won't become one just for my sake!" she pressed her body tighter against his, taking his half-hearted blows and hoping he would not remember how easily he could discard her from on top of him.
"He doesn't deserve to live! I'm going to kill that bastard! He will die." Sirius spoke the last words with a sadistic smile that made Hermione wince.
"I'm afraid that you won't be killing Mr. Pettigrew tonight, Mr. Black."
The struggling couple turned to see the owner of the office standing in the doorway, looking quite upset. Sirius finally succeeded in shoving Hermione off of him, and stood up to his full height. "Are you going to stop me?"
Hermione wanted to slap him for those words. How dare he speak that way to Professor Dumbledore – after all, the man was just trying to prevent him from doing anything foolish.
Dumbledore, of course, did not seem the least bit frightened as Sirius slightly raised his wand, ready to protect the task he was going to accomplish. The Headmaster looked placid as he said, "Peter Pettigrew was found dead in his cell tonight. His insanity drove him to the point of starvation and resulted in hallucinations. It is reported that he often screamed things along the lines of, "No, Padfoot! Prongs, Lily, stop him! I'm sorry!" and cowered in the room's corner. He died a death of much suffering after throwing himself against the bars numerous times to escape the phantoms that haunted him." Here Dumbledore paused, and his former students knew that it was hard for him to speak of someone he had once believed so greatly in in such a manner.
"If you'd excuse me, I'd like to spend a little time alone tonight. I have things to attend to," Dumbledore offered an exhausted ghost of a smile making the other two leave the room.
Sirius felt so utterly ashamed he could barely raise his eyes to meet Hermione's. But when he did accomplish this very difficult task, he was rewarded with Hermione's hand slapping him across the face.
Too shocked for a verbal yell of surprise, he gaped at her, only to see her sobbing, head in her hands.
"I hate you! I hate you so Goddam much!" she pounded on his chest for a few moments as he let her, then heaved a loud sob and pressed her face to it, crying.
He stroked her hair, confused beyond belief but patient enough for her to explain.
"I could have lost you! You didn't even think about the consequences! If he hadn't been dead…" she trailed off, wiping her eyes now and glaring at him. He said nothing, watching her with black eyes.
"Bastard," she spat, her brown eyes flashing angrily as she kicked him in the leg and stomped away.
He heaved a great sigh and began walking very slowly after her. Flowers aren't a good enough apology for something like this. Candy? No, too immature… dinner? No, too long until another dinner. Ah, breakfast in bed! And of course my puppy dog face and insistent irresistible kisses along the neck…
Quite pleased with himself at his sure plan and his anger at his now dead friend faded to a contentness he hadn't felt in years, Sirius risked a small smile.
After all, in a way, Peter Pettigrew died not by the hands of Sirius Black, but by the even stronger memory of him.
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A/N: Sorry it's short again, next chapter'll be longer, I promise! Please read and review!