A/N: Hope you all enjoy this chapter ;)

Thank you to my Alpha WordsmithMusings!

Chapter Five:

Sirius plopped on the couch after they had finished inspecting themselves. Hermione could still Draco's fingers on her skin as she sat in the centre so Draco could sit on her other side.

She felt crowded between the two large figures, Draco only slightly taller, but they both had similar lanky builds. Shifting, Hermione tucked her hands between her legs and looked at the floor.

"Alright," Sirius' voice cut through the quiet. "Tell me how it ended."

Hermione's heart squeezed in her chest, but she told him. Draco stayed silent beside her as she recounted what happened after he died, how the Ministry discovered Voldemort was still alive. She told him how the twins had opened a joke store on Diagon Alley, and then she retold what she knew of Dumbledore's death.

"Draco was involved?"

Hermione nodded but reached back and placed her hand atop Draco's. His skin was cold, fingers like ice; he was probably nervous. She felt oddly protective of him, afraid that Sirius wouldn't understand. "It wasn't his fault. And he's already paid enough for his part."

Draco stared at her in surprise. Sirius sighed. "Guess he can't be all bad if he was willing to give his blood to bring me back, even if he got a trade for it."

Hermione continued her story, the chaos Dumbledore's death created, the Ministry takeover, the three of them going on the run. Hermione's hand stayed in Draco's the entire time she spoke. At some parts, his fingers would rub hers. She glanced over what had happened at Malfoy Manor; the torture was still a fresh wound, and it embarrassed her that Draco had watched it all.

Until she got to the Battle of Hogwarts, where his hand squeezed and didn't stop. Sirius took her other hand as she told him how it started and who died. She told him of Snape's sacrifice, of Percy rescuing Fred and saving his life. Finally, when she told him of Teddy Lupin and the sacrifice of Remus and Tonks, their resolve broke.

Hermione didn't remember who had started crying first, but as soon as they did, Sirius pulled her into his arms. Together they wept; Draco still had hold of her hand and laced his fingers with hers. He placed it against his heart, where Hermione could feel both his erratic heartbeat and silent sobs.

"Harry went down to the woods after that," Hermione continued as she wiped her eyes, instantly returning her hands to lace with Sirius and Draco's. "He was an unknown Horcrux. When Voldemort killed him, he was really killing his own soul."

"That was real?" Sirius asked. "I thought it had been a dream, but it must have been something the Veil wanted to show me. He had asked me—" He cut himself off and looked at Hermione. "Maybe I shouldn't say; that was Harry's private moment."

Hermione squeezed his hand and gave him a gentle smile. "It's alright. I know. Anyway, after the curse was used, Narcissa was told to go investigate, and she lied and said he was dead because Draco was still alive."

"How do you know?" Draco asked, his throat raspy. "My mother's never told me any of this."

"Harry, of course." Hermione grinned. "He tells me everything. I even know things about Blaise—"

"Please do not finish that sentence."

The three of them laughed, and as Hermione told the story of Voldemort's death, the mood had turned bittersweet. The three fell into an easy silence, each lost in their own thoughts.

"I still never apologised," Draco said after some time had passed, while Hermione still sniffled lightly and Sirius smoked a cigarette. Draco's head leant against the back of the couch, his eyes on the ceiling. His voice came out at barely a whisper, but Hermione still heard the murmured, "I'm sorry."

"It wasn't what I would've chosen for you, Draco," Hermione said, voice dropping. "But I don't blame you."

They stayed silent after that, Sirius snuffing out his cigarette as Hermione grabbed his hand again. They sat, shoulder to shoulder, heads leant against the back of the couch.

"I suppose we should head up soon," Sirius muttered. "I'll have to transfigure my bed bigger; it's only a queen."

Hermione's stomach dropped when she realised she'd be sleeping with them. Oh, Merlin, and showers? How would she dress? Will the ropes allow her to take off her shirt? Godric, what about using the loo?

Draco rubs his face, "Well, I don't know about the lot of you, but I like to shower before bed."

Hermione's face heated as her brain tried to figure out the logistics. She and Sirius could sit out of the shower while Draco washed, but what about when Hermione wanted to shower? She wouldn't be able to use her arms with both of them sat outside.

A Muffliato would be a necessity while using the restroom. But they wouldn't need to shower, surely, when a cleaning charm would do just as well?

"And spells? There has to be something we could use."

"Trust me when I say they don't work quite as well as a real shower does. Like putting perfume over sweat. Eventually, it wears off," Sirius grinned. "Prongs and I would always get yelled at by Moony for using it too long."

Hermione screwed her face in disgust. "Well... Fine. I suppose I see no other way."

"Let's make an agreement now." Draco sat up. "We all shower together, but eyes stay up."

Sirius snorted, "You don't actually expect that to work, do you?"

Hermione untangled her hands from both of theirs. Her heart leapt in her chest, and her entire body shook. She wasn't a prude by any means—she'd been with Ron for a few years and dated occasionally after that, but this was different. This was Draco and Sirius. Her childhood bully and the man she'd had a schoolgirl crush on.

They silently walked upstairs, Hermione's heart pounding in her ears. Sirius stopped when he saw they had finally figured out the counter-spell for Walburga's portrait. It still stood empty, the wallpaper fresh with the skeleton of where the painting used to hang.

Sirius nodded to himself. "It looks even better empty. What happened to it?"

Hermione wished she could have the satisfaction of saying it was burned. Harry had wanted to, but something in her told him to stop. Even as Walburga screamed at her. Instead, they took it up to the attic and placed a silencing charm on it, where the portrait could rot till the end of time.

"It was placed in storage," Hermione said flatly, staring at the bare wall.

Draco stood nearby awkwardly, and Hermione explained what had hung there previously. He nodded in understanding as she finished. "Maybe I can have something from the Malfoy vaults brought up. I have both muggle and wizarding portraits, though some a bit more... unsavoury."

Sirius turned to him, his eyes searching Draco's. "Thank you. I trust your judgement. Pick what you think would look best."

"I—" Draco looked truly shocked that trust was placed in him. "I will."

They continued up the stairs to Sirius' bedroom. Hermione transfigured the bed when Sirius realised he didn't have his wand. That would be another purchase needed.

A trunk of items sat in the corner of the room, a note resting atop it from Harry.

A few things till I come by tomorrow.

In it were pyjamas for everyone, soaps and shampoos, and toothbrushes. Hermione sighed in relief when she saw Harry had included her favourite conditioner from Parvati's shop and her enchanted detangling comb.

"It's the only thing that tames my hair," Hermione mumbled when Draco gave her a questioning look.

With the bed now twice as large as it had been, the three of them stood awkwardly in the room. They all knew it was time to undress, yet none of them wanted to be first.

"Good Godric," Sirius rolled his eyes and unbuckled his trousers. They fell to the floor in a heap, and as he tugged on the hem of his shirt, he glanced at Hermione and Draco. "Well? Am I going to be the only naked one?"

Draco began to undress, as did Hermione, who thanked the gods that the ropes allowed her to take off her shirt. The cold air pebbled her skin, and she kept her eyes skyward. From her peripheral vision, however, she saw the scars littering Draco's chest. The light patches of hair covering Sirius'.

This was going to be much harder than she thought.

"Hermione, you can look at our faces." Sirius chuckled. "Just not below the waist, yeah?"

In embarrassment, her eyes flickered down, and then down some more. She looked between the two men, noting the differences.

Draco coughed, and Hermione's gaze flickered up to his. A smirk curled his lips as he looked at her, grey eyes twinkling. Hermione's cheeks heated, a small squeak leaving her lips when she looked over to Sirius to see him grinning. She realised both of them had the same eyes—Black family grey.

Sirius laughed as Hermione's eyes went skyward again. "Come on, kitten."

He tugged on the rope, and the trio shuffled to the bathroom. Sirius turned on the water, and they all took turns to relieve themselves. Hermione made sure to cast a Muffliato, but they could still feel the tugs on the rope as she moved around. It was incredibly awkward, but Hermione powered through.

It did, however, allow her the opportunity to study their backsides. Their bums were rather nice, but Hermione felt uncomfortable staring, so she kept her gaze up. Scars littered both their bodies, but Sirius' were more rigid, caused by bites and claws. Draco had very few, only some that she assumed were from Quidditch, and then the jagged scars of the Sectumsempra spell.

"How did you get those?" Sirius asked as they all stepped beneath the heated water. Hermione was thankful there were two showerheads and plenty of space for them to manoeuvre. Tomorrow she'd speak to Sirius about turning this into a large bath.

Draco scratched at his chest. "Your godson discovered my godfather's potion book."

Sirius still looked confused, and Hermione patted his arm. So far, none of them had touched, and Hermione's fingers slid across Sirius' wet skin. Her body broke in goosebumps, but she chalked it up to the chilled water.

She managed to keep her eyes upwards, which was just as bad. Draco and Sirius were taller than her, so having her eyes above only caused her to meet their gaze. Relief flowed through her when they finally finished the fastest shower they could have managed, and Sirius handed her a fluffy towel.

"And that, Hermione?" Sirius asked when their bodies had been wrapped in the towels. He grabbed her left arm, the faded mudblood scar glinting in the dim light. "How did you get this?"

Hermione yanked her arm from his grasp and held it close to her body. As much as she feigned confidence and told people it didn't bother her, it was a lie. She hated it; she hated the way her scar always reminded her of that day. It was like an inescapable memory.

Beside her, Draco reached out, silently running his fingers along the scar on her neck with a frown. His gentle touch made goosebumps break across her skin, and Hermione stumbled back out of his reach. Without a word, Draco strode into the bedroom as far as he could until the bond snapped around her arm.

"I see," Sirius muttered, glancing between Draco's back and Hermione's face. "Let's go to bed."

They dressed in turn, each facing the opposite direction for privacy—Hermione readied for none of the clothes to go past the rope, but they did. The contrast between what everyone wore was comical. Draco stood in silk pyjamas, the dark blue fabric shimmering in the light like a moonless sky. Hermione had on an old Spice Girls t-shirt and shorts while Sirius wore only flannel trousers, his chest bare.

"I get hot easily," he explained as Hermione's curious gaze and Draco's raised brow. "I am part-mutt, you know."

Fresh heat sprung to Hermione's cheeks at being caught staring. She was such a harlot; it felt dirty to check them out. So far, she'd been the one breaking their agreement. That needed to change; they didn't have any more say in this than she did.

Willing the blush away, Hermione pulled her hair together, the ringlets spilling around her face from the pineapple on her head. It was something she learned long ago to help protect her curls, and she couldn't help but laugh at the odd faces Sirius and Draco gave her. Her amusement was short-lived when she saw the bed behind them.

Right. They were all going to sleep together.

Draco and Sirius looked behind them, and Sirius sighed. "As much as I hate to say it, Hermione, I think you'll sleep best in the middle."

Hermione nodded. It made sense; they were connected to her. None of them would sleep well if her hands were pulled in every direction.

Draco climbed in first, his right hand raising. He looked at Hermione with expectant eyes, and she realised it was her turn to climb in. Her cotton shorts pulled tight when her knees sunk into the mattress, thankful for the large t-shirt that covered her body. Normally she went without a bra, but she couldn't handle that tonight. Maybe eventually, but not yet.

Their shoulder's brushed when Sirius slid in, the heavy comforter settling overtop of them. Sirius turned off the lamp on the table, bathing the room in darkness.

"Goodnight," Sirius called out.

"Goodnight," Hermione replied.

Draco stayed silent, but shifted next to her. She supposed that was as good of a goodnight as they would get. Draco stayed silent when he was upset, that much Hermione had learned.

Sirius turned over, his back facing Hermione. She tried to settle beneath the sheets but didn't know how to move. Did she face Sirius or Draco? Did she stay on her back or go to her stomach? What if she had to use the restroom in the middle of the night? Sirius began to breathe deeply beside her, indicating he was fast asleep or just on the cusp.

It irritated her.

Sighing, Hermione turned over, coming face to face with Draco.

His grey eyes watched her, arm tucked under his pillow, wet hair messy atop his head. It was longer than Hermione thought without it styled. The pale locks splayed across the patterned fabric of Sirius' sheets like tendrils of moonlight peeking through the trees.

"What?" Draco whispered, his breath ghosting across her face. They were barely inches apart.

"I can't sleep."

Draco closed his eyes, a small smirk pulling his lips. "Well, some of us are trying to, Granger."

His voice dipped on her name, and a shiver ran through Hermione. Trying to ignore the odd feeling Draco caused in her, Hermione huffed and flipped over to face Sirius' back. When she shut her eyes, she nearly jumped out of her skin as a hand pressed to her back.

"Malfoy, what—?"

"Just close your eyes," Draco murmured, his fingers tracing soothing circles across her covered skin. It felt like he was painting a picture. "Go to sleep."

Hermione listened to him, her eyelids fluttering closed. The long nights and early mornings began to catch up to her.

"I'm still mad at you for using me for publicity," she muttered, breath low. "You could have told me; I could have helped."

"I'm sorry," Draco whispered. "Truly. If you knew the reason why... Well. I'm not sure if you'd approve or not."

"Tell me why then."

Draco's hand stilled. "No. Not yet."

He resumed his ministrations on her back, and Hermione began to fade in and out of consciousness. Within moments, she fell asleep.

The morning had been terrible. For starters, Hermione woke an hour earlier than Draco and Sirius. She had to pee—badly. Thankfully just as she thought she'd have to pull them out of bed by their bonds, they woke. Sirius did first, the soft face Hermione had been studying as he slept turning hard as the day's stressors returned to him. He had looked so peaceful as he slept.

Draco had been less so, tossing and turning all night. At one point, he had wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her close. Hermione had only been half-asleep, and she startled awake as Draco pressed his face into the back of her neck and sighed contentedly.

She hadn't moved, hadn't known what to do at that moment. Her heartbeat turned erratic beneath her ribs, the faint babump-babump-babump pounding in her ears. Draco stayed still after that, his body curled around her.

Hermione had barely slept. Draco looked refreshed.

They said their good mornings and shuffled to the bathroom, half-dazed but needing to pee. Hermione barely felt any embarrassment this time.

The trudge down to the kitchen was the worst. Hermione stumbled down the stairs, tripping over her own feet. Thankfully Sirius had turned to catch her at the right moment.

"Careful, kitten," he said, flashing a grin and making her heart race. "You'll take us all with you."

Hermione and Draco stood awkwardly as Sirius raided the kitchen, Hermione's arm pulling every which way as he pieced together three mugs and tea. She watched as he filled the dented kettle and settled it atop the stove.

Draco tapped his wand against the glowing bond around his wrist, small sparks zapping in the air. He tried a few things, but nothing happened, and he gave up with a sigh.

"We'll figure something out," Hermione told him. "I promise."

The conversation was cut short by a knock at the door. They clamoured down the hall, Sirius peeking through the peephole. A grin overtook his face, and he quickly yanked the door open.

Harry stood on the other side, grocery bags hanging from his arms. His grin matched Sirius as he stepped inside and was pulled into a crushing hug by his godfather.

"Alright, Sirius?" Harry laughed. "How was it last night?" Harry led the way back to the kitchen. It certainly felt more like his house than Sirius'.

Sirius shrugged. "A bit awkward, but I slept fine."

Hermione and Draco both huffed. Harry gave them a curious look and set the bags down. He pulled food from the nearby Tesco from the canvas and placed it in the cabinet and icebox. The kettle whistled behind him, and Sirius rushed forward to turn the stove off. It yanked Hermione into the table, and Draco grabbed her arm to stop her from falling to the ground.

"I think Hermione will have a broken leg by the end of this," Draco said, his voice hard. "We need to remember to move slowly."

Sirius reached out to tuck a loose curl behind her ear. "Sorry, kitten."

Harry coughed lightly, but made them all tea as the trio carefully sat. Hermione was already exhausted, and the day had barely begun.

"Oh, Hermione," Harry stood and patted his Auror uniform, pulling two small bags from his pocket. One was hers, the familiar bejewelled pouch light in her hands. The other was Harry's own bag with an undetectable extension charm—he'd insisted on getting one after the war. It had been invaluable to them. He reached his arm inside, the sounds of items falling echoed. Harry had always been relatively organised, but she couldn't imagine what his bag was like. Her's was perfectly set; she even had a filing system.

Harry's eyes lit up as he pulled a bundle of papers from the bag. He handed them to her and returned to searching. It was Hermione's research, and she watched in nervous anticipation until Harry handed her Oliver McKaide's notebook. Relief coursed through her, and she opened it up to scan its contents.

"So, Harry," Sirius began as Hermione read. "Tell me what you've been up to? I already know you're training to be the next Head Auror, aye?"

Harry nodded excitedly, and the two of them caught up. Harry told him of his breakup with Ginny, his found love with Blaise and their marriage.

"When Blaise and I started dating, I was terrified to tell him I was a single father, but—"

"A single father? What happened to Andy?"

Harry shook his head sadly, "After Tonks, she... well, it was hard for her. She's still alive, but I don't think she has long left. I took Teddy full-time about three years ago." He rubbed his eyes behind his glasses.

"I feel as if I'm one of the only ones left," Sirius sighed. "Aside from you, of course, Harry."

"And my mother," Draco bit out. It pulled Hermione from her reading as her gaze flickered between everyone.

"And you're mother," Sirius agreed. "But she hates me. And I'm not sure I have much love lost between her and Bellatrix. Your aunt was the one who killed me. I'm not sad she's dead; I'm only sad Molly had to do it."

The anger from Draco was palpable. His voice dropped to an icy calm beneath furrowed brown and pinched mouth like the calm before the storm. "Bellatrix may have been insane, but she was still my aunt. She was the only reason... he didn't kill me after Snape killed Dumbledore and not me."

Hermione didn't miss how he avoided saying Voldemort out loud as if the man still haunted his nightmares. Given that Hermione was prone to them herself, and the way Draco tossed, she didn't doubt it.

"Then bully for you, Malfoy. She was just as insane as the other Black women. Your mother included for marrying your father." Sirius mocked.

"You watch your tone, Black." Draco bit out. "I didn't get to run from my family. There wasn't a spare for me to fall back on. I had to toe the line or be killed, or worse, watch my mother die. I'm still watching my mother die."

"Well, that is the difference, isn't it? I could've happily watched my mother die for the love she gave me. "

"Isn't there anyone that you would've died to protect, though?" Hermione asked, her heart racing as she watched the two men fight.

"I did die to protect someone. Harry."

"But you wouldn't have died to protect your blood?" Draco scoffed.

"Reg," replied Sirius quietly, anger leaving him. "There was a time when I would've died to protect him."

"Oh. Sirius, I'm so sorry." Harry sat up. "Regulus—he helped us."

Sirius furrowed his brows. "Helped you? How? He's dead."

"But it's how he died—Listen..."

Harry told the story of R.A.B., the sacrifice Regulus made. Sirius sat open-mouthed in bewilderment.

"So he was good. In the end." Sirius sniffed, a small smile tugging his lips. "I knew it. I always knew it."

Draco's voice cut through the silence. "That's who my mother is to me. She's my Regulus."

"And I'm sorry." He whispered, glancing at Hermione. "That she tortured you. That she put that brand on your skin and slice on your throat for all to see. I'm sorry that I didn't do more to stop it."

A thick feeling settled in Hermione's throat, and she nodded once. She didn't trust her voice. Sirius flashed his eyes to her in an indication that they would speak about this later.

The room turned awkward after that as the four of them sipped their tea. Hermione didn't doubt this would happen many more times in the following days. Being cooped up together without the ability to be in separate rooms would cause many feelings to come to the surface.

The grandfather clock struck the top of the hour, a deep resonating chime vibrating the house. Harry glanced at it and rushed to stand. "Sorry, I didn't realise the time. I want to stay, but I have a meeting in thirty minutes." He pulled Sirius into a tight hug, and then Hermione; he held her at arm's length. "You're alright? You feel comfortable enough to be here on your own?"

"What is she going to do, Potter? Leave?" Draco rolled his eyes. "Or are you going to move in?"

To everyone's surprise, Sirius barked a laugh.

Hermione nodded and smiled. "Yes, Harry. I have my wand and my research; I'll be fine."

"And my wand?" Sirius asked. "What happened to it?"

Hermione and Harry shared a look.

"It broke," Hermione piped up. It was better to share the truth than try to lie. "When Bellatrix hit you with that spell, it shattered."

"We'll get you another one. I'll have one sent." Harry said as he walked toward the door.

Hermione frowned, "He'll need to go to Ollivanders, Harry. You can't just give him any old wand."

"I know, I know." Harry sighed and took off his glasses to rub his eyes. "I'll speak to Kingsley."

Then he walked out of the kitchen and down the hall. The door clicked behind him faintly, leaving Draco, Hermione and Sirius in deafening awkwardness.

Hermione turned back to the book as Draco and Sirius sipped their tea.