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Summary: Hermione is obsolete – the War is over, Harry and Ron are busy, and she the mere Charms teacher at Hogwarts.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 16: The Rebel Within
Hermione spent the next four days at her parents' home, but hardly ever in their company. She had came out there to find herself, so after spending a late Christmas with her family, she locked herself away from everyone. No, not in her room – how can one find themselves in a little closed-up room?
She put her wand in a box and slid it underneath her bed. She threw all of her magic books and muggle books in a trunk and locked it. At the moment she didn't want to be muggle Hermione Granger or Charms professor Hermione Granger. Not Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley's friend. Not the murderer of Bellatrix Lestrange. Not the fiancée of Sirius Black.
She wanted to be Hermione Granger – and she knew just how to do it.
She spent days just wandering around in the woods, the solace she had discovered when she was a bushy-haired little girl with big teeth and an imagination to die for. It was where she could see the elves, talk to the nymphs, befriend the faeries, and beware of the witches (a bit ironic, that one is). She would return home, sometimes in the dead of night, sometimes in the early morning. She wasn't tired – a vast amount of sleep wasn't necessary when you're on a journey of self-discovery.
The woods were almost sterilely white from the snow, and it took a while for Hermione's eyes to adjust to the brightness. But day after day, she would bundle herself up in warm clothes, trudge out the door, and walk the woods, just thinking.
She had always enjoyed thinking... daydreaming, if you will. When boredom set in, just letting her mind wander and open had been the ultimate way to cheer herself up. But she was not only daydreaming as she walked the old paths of her woods, but she was remembering.
And all of this she was doing so that she could just remember herself. That little girl who had always been so sure about what she wanted, so positive in the light of the future.
Come here, little Hermione, she thought lightheartedly, wishing her younger self forward to the present. It was always so much simpler to think when you're a kid… so easy.
Too bad that little girl didn't know that life wouldn't be nearly as effortless as having imaginary friends surround you in a forest.
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Sirius, on the other hand, had no parents' home to visit after his Christmas at the Weasley's. He returned to Hogwarts and spent a few days accompanying Dumbledore on walks through the castle, each talking as comfortably with one another as you would an old friend.
Dumbledore just had that charisma around him that made you want to open up, and Sirius, unsure on whether it was a magically based charisma or a personality based one, complied nonetheless.
"Sirius," the Headmaster began one day, as the two turned a corner in the dungeon area of the school, "I know you have quite adeptly avoided this question in previous conversations… but, dear boy, where is it that you have been the past five years?"
Sirius stiffened at the question but said nothing as he clasped his hands behind his back, staring at his black sneakers as they shuffled across the stone floor. Dumbledore decided to press on, "I have an idea… but I'm not quite sure on-"
"I don't really know what to call it, Professor," Sirius whispered, eyes still glued to his feet. It was apparent that he had put up his defenses in the fact that he called Albus 'Professor'.
"A name means very little in this matter, Sirius. Just tell me what you felt… what you saw, perhaps?" Albus' eyes twinkled eloquently at the latter of the sentence.
Sirius, eyes still trained below the headmaster's gaze, missed the knowing look. "I saw… things happen… I knew they weren't real – I knew the creatures I saw weren't what they seemed…"
"What did they seem to be?"
"James… Lily…" Sirius' voice choked with emotion, result of the memories he was reliving from what he had seen in that place. Dumbledore gave him an encouraging nod to continue.
"I saw them… in a place… they were talking about how they could never lay at rest because their deaths weren't avenged, and they never would be. And I felt so guilty… so horrible. Then I saw Remus, and he was talking about me, and how he never should have trusted a Black, and how he hated me from the start… And I saw Peter – I saw him happy, with Harry… that's what made me realize it wasn't real – I knew Harry would never do that to his parents… Never… There were other things, too… People dying – people I love – I saw Voldemort come to power, kill my godson, and torture his friends. I saw him kill Ron and Hermione…"
The Headmaster nodded again, this time benevolently, as he patted his former student gently on the shoulder. But Sirius shook off the comforting touch.
"I didn't only see it – I could hear it, feel it… The blood – everything was so real… I could have tasted it, if I had tried." Sirius sighed and ran a hand through his hair, wishing that the old man hadn't tried to find out what he had gone through. It was better the way it was before – he had been able to nearly forget about it, just lose himself in the moment… especially when he was with a certain clever woman who looked stunning in blue.
"Is that all?" Dumbledore asked, locking Sirius with a penetrating blue gaze just like ice. The Headmaster noticed with sorrow that Sirius' eyes appeared so utterly haunted, and their dark color only made it seem more so.
"What the hell do you mean, is that all?" the young man snapped, his temper coming out and lashing wildly. The same way it had when he was young… But he wasn't really young now, was he?
"I was merely trying to help-" Dumbledore began, but Sirius just took a sharp intake of breath and turned away, whispering quietly.
"It would really help if everyone would just leave the past alone…"
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Flopping backwards into the snow, Hermione giggled. She felt as if she had accomplished the task of drawing forth her younger self, and now had the sudden urge to make a snow angel.
As she began moving her arms and legs through the cold powder beneath her, she tried to sort out her thoughts with a more straightforward mind.
"Am I ready to get married?" she mused aloud, almost as if speaking to a magic eight ball, hopeful in receiving a positive answer.
It'll be like a fairytale, the little Hermione's persona responded wistfully. So much love… You'll be as happy as anyone could wish to be…
"If that's true, why am I so afraid?"
You think too much about the past… You're afraid that you will get hurt again.
"I suppose…" the woman bit down on her lip.
His love should be enough to assure you that he would never let anything hurt you…
Hermione straight up, snow flying from her messy hair, and got to her feet. Watching her breath form in odd patterns and shapes in front of her gaze, she turned back in the direction of her home. Willing her legs to be quick and spry despite the cold, she began to run, and in her mind had formed a mantra of truth in response to her earlier statement.
It is… It is…
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"Have you any idea how much I pity you?"
Sirius turned sharply as he heard the cold drawl from behind him. He had been returning to his quarters after his walk with Dumbledore, and was quite disappointed to find that the talk with one of his favorite people had not subdued his frustrations at the current moment. Now to make matters worse, as always, was Severus.
"What the fuck do you want?" Sirius snarled, clenching his hands at his sides and gritting his teeth. He hated Snape to the point where seeing his greasy face was enough to cause immediate regrettable actions to occur. Or maybe not so regrettable, depending how you look at it.
"Temper, Black. Mustn't have the students hear their dear professor cuss so strongly – oh, wait, you aren't even a real professor, are you?" Snape smirked triumphantly, hands clasped calmly behind his back, looking quite the opposite of an irate Sirius.
The taller man stepped forward, his black eyes boring into his age-old enemy. "I asked you what the fuck you wanted – answer me now, or get the hell out of my sight, Snape."
"I asked you a question, Black," the potions teacher snapped, getting closer to Sirius' face. "Have you any idea how much I pity you?"
"I don't need your pity – and for what reasons do you pity me? I believe my life's turned out a little better than a sad, lonely dungeon master's who has no one to love him."
"I pity you, because," the man with the crooked nose chose to ignore his last comment, "It must be dreadfully burdensome to live as a man with a past such as yours. Responsible for the deaths of your best friends… Perhaps responsible, even, for the rather horrendous rape of a Miss Hermione Granger. Perhaps if you had been there-" Fortunately at that moment, Sirius' fist had decided to party on Snape's face, and his torrent of vile accusations ended.
Severus stumbled back into the hard stone wall of the castle, bringing a hand up to his crooked nose, which now looked promising to be even more crooked in the near future.
"Don't you ever talk to me again, you disgusting excuse for a human being, and I'll stay away from beating you to a bloody pulp and waxing the floors with your grease-soaked head, savvy?"
Glaring at him from beneath his bangs, hand still clutched desperately to his face, Snape nodded minutely and Sirius turned on his heel and walked away.
"You know I'm right…" trailed behind him, echoing through the halls like a traitorous whisper that would never leave his ears.
Which it might not.
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When Sirius finally did return to his quarters, he immediately knew that he was not alone. Thinking it might be his werewolf friend, he began speaking before he entered the living room.
"Moony, you wouldn't believe who I just walloped in the face-" his excited voice was cut off abruptly when he saw, not the ever-struggling expression bordering on approval and amusement, but the very disapproving look of his lover.
"And who might that be, Professor Black?"
Sirius squirmed under her scrutiny like he always had when McGonagall was about to yell at him for some new revelation of bad behavior.
"Erm… I can't remember," he finished lamely, looking at her through black wisps of hair and trying to appear as innocent as possible.
Hermione sighed and stood up from the couch she had taken residence on, stepping towards the uncomfortable Sirius.
Wrapping her arms around his neck, she lightly brushed her lips against his as he watched in surprise. Gently slipping her tongue inside his mouth, she moved it quickly around the crevices of his mouth, remembering him with as much zeal as she had earlier tried to remember herself.
When she pulled away, she smirked mockingly at him and said, "Do you remember now?"
Sirius made a face of disgust, "I sure hope kissing you doesn't remind me of Snape!"
Hermione stepped away from him, triumphant at having gotten the information out of him, "Ah, so you hit Snape… Why, may I ask?"
He became rigid and waved it off with a careless motion of his hand, "It's nothing, really, 'Mione…"
"You hit him for no reason?" she asked, hands placed tersely on her hips.
"No, I – I had reason… just nothing that needs to be spoken of again." Sirius ducked his head lower, causing his bangs to fall in front of his eyes again. Self-defense mechanism. Without being able to view his expressive eyes, Hermione made a judgement on his body language, and decided that she needn't press any further on the topic. She trusted him, despite his rash and sometimes lamentable actions, to know how to act in particular situations.
"Alright, then," she beamed; changing her mood quickly as she grabbed Sirius' arm and led him back towards the door he had just entered through. She grabbed his coat and threw it to him on the way, and he caught it with a clueless expression.
"'Mione, where are we going?"
"It's New Year's Eve, and my parents are having a party… I think they would like to meet you before I tell them that we're engaged," the woman's eyes flashed between gold and brown for a moment as Sirius' feet seemed to stop moving, leaving them both standing in the middle of the hall outside of the room.
"They don't know?" he asked in amazement.
"No," Hermione shook her brown waves of hair and bit her lip.
"Oooh… so they don't know that we're in looove? That you can hardly keep your hands off of me, and that we shag at least six times a week-?"
"Six? Really? Well Tonks and I…" Remus, who had virtually popped out of nowhere to the oblivious couple, smirked at Sirius' pained expression.
"That's my cousin, Moony!"
"Yes, and I think of that fact every time we're in bed together, Padfoot," Remus shook his head uncertainly with a small smile on his face. "So where are you two kids headed off to?"
"My parents'," Hermione responded, shooting Sirius a pointed look.
"What?" he asked.
"You better not start talking about how many bloody times we shag, Sirius Lee Black, or so help me…"
Sirius made a whining noise, but nonetheless nodded compliantly, before turning eagerly to Remus, who watched the whole exchange with an elevated eyebrow.
"Guess who I walloped today…!"
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"I'm a little nervous," Hermione bit her lip as she held Sirius' hand as they exited the castle and began walking across the grounds towards Hagrid's.
"Love, why are we walking towards Hagrid's?" Sirius asked in a confused tone. "Because, you know, if we take him with us, I'm sure your family would realize we're just a little bit non-muggle…"
Hermione laughed at the terms he used, and shook her head. "We're going to take your bike. You know, the bike that's sitting in Hagrid's shed?"
"Ooh, so you do have a little bit of a rebellious side to you!" Sirius grinned cheekily and kissed Hermione's ear. "Showing up at your parents' place with some guy on a motorcycle… admirable, Granger."
"It's a teenage girl's dream, to do that… now that I have the chance, I figured, why not?"
Sirius unlocked the shed with an almost giddy manner, throwing open the doors to reveal his precious baby, still gleaming new.
"Ah," he exhaled deeply, a beautiful glint in his eye. "Come here, precious," he approached the bike as one would a beautiful but dangerous hippogriff.
"Don't wet yourself," Hermione smirked as she watched him push the bike free of the confines of the small building she was housed in.
"You're just jealous," Sirius grinned as he mounted the bike, stroking the handle lovingly.
Rolling her eyes, Hermione got on behind him, wrapping her arms around Sirius' leather jacket at his waist. As he revved the engine, emitting a beautiful sound, he turned to face her, unable to keep a grin off his face at this point.
"Fly most of the way, then find a good place to land and ride the rest?"
She nodded, and as he turned around, smiled jubilantly at the sure way her rather proper aunts and uncles would respond to this arrival. Oh, not to mention her horribly envious cousins…
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Hermione's heart skipped a beat as she observed Sirius from behind. The way the wind swept his hair back catchingly, how his earring danced amidst it, the flame burning a vibrant Gryffindor red. He had that wonderfully amazing rebel without a cause effect on her… but perhaps he was not without cause – no, certainly this man had cause to be a rebel. More than one, to be completely honest.
They rounded the last corner that led to her house, and Hermione tapped him on the shoulder before pointing out which house it was.
There were already quite a few cars parked in the driveway, and a few small children ambled about the front yard with a blue basketball.
Hermione's heart skipped another beat – her parents hadn't told her that the whole sodding family would be there. Although she loved her parents, the rest of her family weren't the nicest bunch, and she was vividly reminded of that as she saw most of the aforementioned people rushing outside, the women dressed up in fancy dinner party dresses and the men in slacks and sweaters.
Biting her lip resolutely, she slid off of the seat of Sirius' precious as he did the same. Alright, 'Mione… this is the family that calls you a freak behind your back – that thought you went to some 'special' school all year to avoid your parents any hassle… Now it's time to show them just how special you really are.
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A/N: Okay, please read and review! I'm sorry if this chapter is short, I'm trying to hurry because I actually have to be at a funeral in an hour…
Tell me what you think of it, and I promise the next chapter will have many of Hermione's snooty relatives' reactions, and it should be amusing…