Author's note: soulmates. was born from my freckles. drabble. If you know me, you know that Sirius and Hermione are soulmates. In fact, I never shut up about it. This story is my baby, a lot has gone into it and into finally publishing it.
This one goes out to my double act partner, prongs, who gave me the idea to expand on my drabble in the first place.
To my beta, my brother, my best friend, xjustakay, I truly could not have done this one without you. A lot of emotion, as you know, went into this and you were there with me the whole time, screaming and crying and throwing up with me. I absolutely love and adore you.
Growing up, Sirius never really believed in soulmates. His parents weren't exactly the perfect example of two people in love. The only time they ever seemed to agree on anything was when they'd yell at him for being a disappointment to the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black.
After one of the worst nights of his life in Grimmauld Place during summer holiday in 6th year, Sirius ran away. He was met and welcomed with open arms by James and his parents, Dorea and Charlus Potter. They'd given him his own room, and along with that the creativity and confidence to be his own person. They treated him like he had always been a part of their family. Eventually, he began calling them mum and dad —or rather, whenever he'd call them by their name, they would gently correct him, insisting he addressed them as mum and dad instead. So long as he wasn't getting into any serious trouble —or wasn't getting caught getting into trouble— they let him be and do as he pleased.
Dorea and Charlus never shied away from showing their affections in front of the boys. While James was used to his father stealing kisses from Dorea during the most mundane of tasks, Sirius wasn't. Not because he didn't want to see it, he didn't care. He just wasn't used to it.
Orion and Walburga Black never so much as looked at each other. His father was always holed up in his study tending to his pureblood affairs and his mother, well, she was busy being an insufferable bitch. So when he would see Charlus sneak up on Dorea while she was having her afternoon tea and reading a book, it was a bit strange at first. Soon, it was something completely normal.
Sirius often wondered if he'd ever find something like what his new mum and dad had. Would he ever love someone so much that he would go to the ends of the world to make them happy? To want to die for them? He never held onto that thought longer than a few minutes. He wasn't foolish enough to think anyone would ever want to truly be with him, to carry on the burden of his family name and their hatred. Sirius had a loveless life to look forward to and that was just fine.
While he had a lot of birds vying for his attention at school, he was never really looking for anything serious. The longest "relationship" he was in was from 5th to 7th year with Marlene McKinnon. She'd come to him begging to pretend to be her boyfriend so that she could better hide her relationship with Dorcas Meadowes, lest it get back around to her very strict pureblood parents. He fooled around with other girls during that time, both of them telling others that it was an open relationship. It was the 70's. Of course they believed it.
"Do you think you'll ever let yourself fall in love, Pads?"
"Ah, Lenney, I'm fucked up. Fucked up family with fucked up views. I'm not bringing anyone down with that bullshit."
"You're my very best friend and you're the best person I have ever known. You deserve it, you know?"
While he and Marlene weren't technically in an actual relationship, aside from being with the Marauders he was always with her. He often wished that they could have been in love with each other. It would have made things easier. But he knew that she had found her person in Dorcas. It tore him up knowing that they never had a true chance.
That was when he really knew he didn't care to fall in love. It was fucked that Marlene and Dorcas never got to live out their love in the open. He was angry. They were so young and so in love and aside from in the Order headquarters, they were always having to fucking hide it. It wasn't fair. "They were soulmates, Sirius. They'll find each other again," they would tell him. Fuck that. They deserved happiness then while they still had it.
Lily would tease him and call him a grumpy old man at the age of twenty. And he would laugh. She had that sort of contagious laugh that would brighten up the foulest of moods.
When he'd first met Lily in second year, it was by way of Remus. James and Sirius were convinced that they were going to end up together. They both cared too much about school studies and every other Friday, beginning from second year all the way until that Halloween, they exchanged books the other thought they would love to read. James would tease her for being so bookish and Remus would often intervene to get him to shut up.
One night, during their third year, Lily wasn't having it anymore.
"Do you wanna know why? Because I'm a muggleborn. Because I'm a mudblood! Do you think I like having to study twice as hard? Work twice as hard to show that I'm worthy of the magic that flows in my veins? I wish I didn't give a shite about what people like you and Black and every other fucking pureblood thought of me. It all came easy for you! You've known all about this since you were born! I didn't! My life changed when I was 11!"
Staring at Lily dumbfounded, Sirius didn't quite know what to say. Thankfully, he wasn't required to interject as Lily went on still.
"So yes, I might be a little bookish, and I might take too many notes during lessons and study too much and too long, but I have to." Her voice faltered. She was now whispering, her voice tired from yelling. "I have to. I don't belong at home and everyone has made it clear that I certainly don't belong here. I'm…I'm tired of working so hard. This isn't how I thought it would be."
He knew that his family name and reputation preceded him. The Black Family was centuries old. Ancient, as their title stated. He hadn't been the only one here, of course. There was Narcissa and Bellatrix, and his brother Regulus. They were more than happy to have upheld the values which their parents were too eager to teach them as children. He had hoped that others saw him opposite those family values, but it seemed that wasn't always the case.
"Lily, we don't care that you're a muggleborn." James began, pointing at both himself and Sirius. "I- I'm so sorry that you ever thought that that was ever something we cared about. Sirius here, you see..." James pointed at him.
Sirius looked back at him with a little panic in his stare, hoping, begging his best friend not to give away too much.
James gave him back a small nod. "Sirius is the last person to care that you're a muggleborn. Why do you think he gets detention so much? He's always getting into some sort of fight with the purebloods. My mum and dad taught me that as long as you're a good person, we're all equals. So, no, Evans, we don't give a fuck about you being a muggleborn."
"There's not a thing you have to prove to me or James, Lily." Sirius interrupted. "I don't believe in any of the bullshit those wankers go about spewing. With us, you don't have anything to prove."
From that moment on, Lily would be seen around the Marauders. Walking with them, sometimes eating with them. So much so, that it had earned Sirius the title blood traitor —a title Sirius was much more pleased with than The Black Heir.
Toward the end of their fifth year, James, in an utter panic after Potions, had begged Lily to tutor him. He was worried he'd fail his exams. Lily had agreed. Every Thursday and Sunday, they would meet in the library and to her surprise, he listened to every word and held onto her every move.
He made her laugh so hard; Sirius remembered she once had snorted pumpkin juice out of her nose from it. He sometimes noticed James staring at Lily for no reason other than that she was there. When they finally became a couple and Sirius would see them lounging together on the settee in the common room, he thought that maybe love wasn't so bad.
The passage of time during war changed his mind on the subject of love rather quickly, however. Dorea and Charlus died side by side fighting for each other. Marlene and Dorcas died hiding their love, while James died protecting his. Was love really so worth it?
He often found himself ruminating about such things since his return from the veil after the fall of Voldemort. He'd returned to find himself being the only Marauder left. Harry and Hermione had sat him down a few days after. Sirius wasn't relenting on his questions about what had happened or where Remus was.
Needless to say, it wasn't an easy conversation.
He was alone. His brother was dead. James was dead, Lily was dead, and now Remus. He wanted to ask about Peter, but he couldn't be arsed to truly care. This was all his fault, as far as he was concerned.
Time seemed to move slowly. The routine of his day to day life felt as if everyone moved at the speed of light around him, while he moved as slow as a snail. Everyone was able to move on from what happened, but he couldn't. He was still stuck on having to deal with all the bullshit that happened prior to his arrest. Not only that, but Azkaban and the dementors had taken so much of his remaining joy and so many of his memories. By the time he had figured out that turning into Padfoot would deter the dementors, it was already too late.
So he had no choice but to put up an act of moving forward. He'd laugh and joke with everyone during the day. Share stories with Teddy about his parents, as well as tell stories to Harry about his. It would take a toll on him, requiring him to get piss drunk at night alone in his study.
Until one night during the week leading up to the 20th anniversary of James and Lily's passing.
They'd just finished their usual Sunday dinner. This time it'd been held at Grimmauld which Sirius had offered up rather quickly because he needed the noise. The sounds of laughter and joy helped to drown out the constant self-deprecating thoughts his mind loved to yell at him.
He was about to retire to the library for his usual task of drinking until he was utterly too pissed to remember any activities, but had found Hermione in there standing before his bookshelves. She looked over her shoulder as soon as she heard his footsteps.
Turning back around she softly began, "You know, you might do a pretty good job at fooling everyone else, but I can see right through you."
Bewildered, all he could do was stare at the back of her curls. She was gracefully walking along the shelving, the tips of her fingers ghosting the spine of the books, as if too scared to touch anything. Given their location, she might have thought anti-muggle curses were still in place.
"You can-" His throat had gone dry from shock. Clearing it, he continued. "You can grab whichever book holds your interest. Harry had uh…Harry had Bill come over to break any curses that were set. As far as I know, no more stand. Please, help yourself."
This time, fully turning her body to face him, she gave a slight nod and a smile. "Thank you, Sirius. I think I'll take you up on that. But that's not why I'm here."
All he could manage was a pathetic "Oh?"
"Please forgive me if I'm overstepping here, I just can't help but notice that you're not doing so well, Sirius. I know what-" She stopped herself.
Closing her eyes, her fingers played with the bottom hem and sleeves of her jumper. Letting out a breath, she opened her eyes again. She looked into his gray eyes with so much intensity and sincerity, it almost knocked his own breath out of his chest as she went on.
"It's easy to ignore whatever feelings we haven't yet dealt with. I know what it feels like to wake up and feel like you're already drowning. The pain of fake smiles and empty laughs. They don't really understand. They all have each other."
He was about to interrupt but she kept going.
"I know that they say I'm family, but in the grand scheme of things, I don't really have anyone anymore. Harry and Ginny are married. Ron is her brother, and my parents…my parents are never going to get their memories back. So I'm wandering around life, hoping to find a semblance of the life that I had before. And I feel as though maybe you might be feeling the same way, Sirius. I suppose I'm here hoping that maybe you might need someone to talk to. I know sometimes we all need someone who will listen and understand. I understand. "
He was rendered speechless. He had no idea what to say. A part of him felt like he should be fucking angry. How dare this little swot come into his home and assume as much from him? Another part of him loved the way his name slipped through her lips. He'd never heard anyone say his name before with so much care. When she'd say it he felt a warmth in his chest that he only thought firewhisky brought. He felt that everything was going to be okay. And fuck, he was tired of not being okay.
Sirius had laid his soul bare to Hermione that night. No drinks. Just a fire in the hearth between them. To his surprise, she did understand. She understood a lot more than he ever hoped she would. They were two souls wandering the earth, lost, looking for their place in the world.
He soon found that his need to drink lessened as Hermione spent more time around Grimmauld Place. She would pop over some nights after cooking a meal and found that she didn't want to eat alone. They would talk about their lives —or mostly he would ask her about hers. Hermione had been offered a job as an Unspeakable after finally graduating from Hogwarts —a job that she gave no thought to and declined on the spot. When he had asked her why, she said she wanted nothing to do with the ministry that destroyed her and her friend's lives. Sirius got the impression there might have been more to that answer but didn't press further.
She instead worked at a bookshop in muggle London that was owned by wizards. She'd told him that she found the peace and quiet of working at a bookstore soothing.
He found that Hermione was his opposite, in a complimentary sort of way. Where Sirius needed noise to drown out his thoughts, Hermione needed quiet and to focus on certain tasks to help drown hers. When she saw that look in Sirius' eyes that told her the thoughts were too loud and he might need a drink, she would task him in helping her with her daily list of books she needed to purchase for the shop. "Read the titles out loud to me and we'll cross reference to see how many copies the shop can afford." She helped keep his mind busy. Away from his demons.
Just as she was able to keep his mind quiet, to his surprise, he seemed to be able to help her with hers. She had arrived in the middle of the afternoon through the Floo while Sirius was on the floor with his records scattered around him.
He looked up at her and he found a dazed look in her eyes. One of desperation. "She must be having a hard day today too," he thought to himself. But instead of asking, instead of bringing attention to her very obvious despair he said, "I woke up pretty late today, couldn't seem to get out of bed. So I, uh, I decided to alphabetize my records. Would you like to help me?"
The look in her eyes changed to one of confusion, as if she was expecting him to force her to talk about what was wrong. Still keeping their gaze locked together, she took in a small breath and as she let out a quiet huff, she nodded back at him.
They had spent the rest of that afternoon organizing all of his records. Not many words spoken between them, Sirius noticed that it was never awkward. She would make a comment here and there about different artists, he would look back at her with all his attention. They moved in tandem; making piles of each letter of the alphabet. Once they were done with one letter, Hermione would carry the records in her arms and file them neatly in the spot on the bookshelf that Sirius had emptied before she'd arrived.
Eventually, her visits would turn into her falling asleep on the settee of the study. They'd be up all night talking but eventually Sirius would notice when he'd turn to look at her that she had fallen asleep. The frequency of it had him offering her her bedroom once more; the one that she would share with Ginny during her fifth year holidays. Soon enough, she'd stay over almost every night.
Spending time with Hermione was as easy as riding his motorbike during his favorite time of day. Right before the sunrise, when the world was calm, the air was clear, and there was no sound other than his bike.
Soon though, it all became too much and yet, not enough.
He had always prided himself on being an honest man, and he had to start by being honest with himself. Somewhere amongst their almost year of friendship, of talking about everything and nothing at all, eating meals together to not be alone, and her sleeping over at Grimmauld so frequently, he had fallen in love with her. An emotion that was all too unfamiliar to himself but he knew perfectly well all the same. And while she was there everyday before and after work, he wanted more. He had to be honest, because he didn't really have much to lose.
Except this witch.
Hermione was like water, strong enough to hold up a ship, but easy to slip through his fingers. He couldn't let her slip through his fingers.
Sirius hadn't played piano in a long time, let alone this one. He and Regulus had been forced to learn the instrument by Walburga to appear a lot more pretentious than they already did —or so he thought. Even though they were forced, it was one of the few lessons both he and Regulus enjoyed participating in. Before Hogwarts and all the blood war bullshit came along, they would play piano for each other when they were bored. Oftentimes, they battled each other with music that was much too difficult to play by two young children.
Sirius supposed he was bored. Sitting on the bench, there was a freshly lit cigarette between his lips as he had his fingers on the ivory. He had purchased the music sheet in front of him a few weeks ago. He thought it was finally time to just go for it.
Both play piano for the first time in two decades and learn a new song.
Dragging his eyes across the music sheet with his fingers ghosting the keys, he began to play.
As they came up to the letter E, Sirius had noticed Hermione's movements had gone still. She was holding a blue record sleeve with pink words etched across that spelled out "Can't Help Falling in Love" and "Elvis." She was staring down at Elvis' picture as if he was looking back at her.
"Hermione? Darling, are you okay?" He asked, a worried tone to his voice.
Breaking her gaze from Elvis, her brown eyes met his, glossed over, not really all there. "This song —it's my favourite song." She answered, her voice barely above a whisper.
"I didn't peg you for the romantic type." He teased back.
Huffing out a small laugh, she shook her head. "It was my parents' wedding song. You know, the first song they danced to as husband and wife."
He only nodded, a sign to let her continue. He found he enjoyed learning new things about her—carefully filing them in a folder in his mind.
"I remember this one particular Sunday after we'd just finished lunch," a smile appeared upon her face, dropping her gaze back down to the record. "I was laying down in the sunroom, reading a book. I remember hearing a man singing, so naturally I thought my mum had put on some music to listen to while she was working in the kitchen. I thought maybe I should go and help her but as soon as I rounded the corner, I saw my father was standing beside her, helping her with the dishes, singing this to her. She had the biggest smile on her face, the happiest I think I'd ever seen her. And he just looked at her as if she was the only person in the world." Her smile faltered, and her brows furrowed. "I wonder if…if he still sings to her."
It was as if he never stopped playing. Music had always come naturally to him; so much so that more than once Mrs. Marchand, his and Regulus' music teacher, had told Walburga that he had potential to be a piano prodigy in the wizarding world. It was something that always made Sirius bark with laughter. Camilla Marchand was a sweet pureblood woman. A piano prodigy herself, she was retired and worked exclusively with families within the Sacred 28. She was always telling him and Regulus they were her favourite students. He often wondered if she was still alive.
Thinking back to when Hermione had mentioned this particular piece of music was her favourite, Sirius wondered if he would've ever even touched the piano again. Just as he was letting himself get lost in the music, he heard a soft gasp. Abruptly lifting his hands from the keys, he turned on the spot.
Standing in the middle of the parlour was Hermione. Tears rolling down her cheeks, hands on her sides, and her lips slightly parted.
Taking one last puff from the cigarette, he extinguished it in the ashtray beside him on the piano bench.
Just as he was about to stand and say something, she made a small step towards him. "That's my song. You…you learned to play my song on the piano?"
He nodded.
"Why?"
He thought maybe he could lie. Maybe he could say something to prolong his desire to tell her how he really felt.
Prior to that fateful night where Hermione had stayed behind and told him she saw how much pain he was truly in, Sirius was never one to be able to talk about his feelings. Given how he'd grown up, he never felt safe enough to. She had plucked up enough of her Gryffindor courage to tell him that she too was in pain, and he felt that perhaps he owed her that much, too.
Sirius was a shell of a man who had everything taken away from him. He was foolish to think that this witch, who was goodness and patience and love and happiness wrapped up into one single person, could ever think of him as anything other than Harry's godfather. Anything other than a friend. But here she was, in front of him, having caught him playing her favourite song on the piano. He didn't have much of a choice anymore.
Boring his gray eyes into hers, he stood up. He slid his hands into his pockets, hiding any tells of his nervousness. "You know, before you, before that night a year ago, I often wondered what it was like to be in love with someone. But there you were and you just knew. You looked at me like you knew me and all the things I couldn't get myself to say."
He took a deep breath, pleasantly surprised with himself that his heart wasn't racing at an abnormal speed. Stepping closer to her, he continued talking, not wanting her to interrupt him. He wanted to get it all out before she had the chance to walk away from him forever.
He had already lost so many he loved. He hated to think that she could be one of them.
"I never understood the desire to want to make another person happy, to want to be around them all the time; to want to learn their favourite song on the piano just because you know it's their favourite song." Slowly letting out a breath, he continued. " You make my soul feel calm, Hermione. You bring me comfort, even if you're just sitting next to me reading. I want to make a life with you. To come home to you and tell you how my day went. To share my happiness, my frustrations, my sadness, and success with. You're my peace."
"Sirius, I— what're you saying? Are you saying you're in love with me?" She whispered.
Huffing out a laugh he responded, "Well, yes. I suppose that is what I'm saying, but you see, it's more than that. It's so much more than that. Hermione, I— I feel like this whole time I've been trying to go home but I didn't know where home was. I was homesick. I've been homesick for you."
He felt both like a weight was lifted from his shoulders and like he was suffocating. He'd never been raw and honest with anyone before, at least not about being in love. He'd never been in love. This moment determined if he was to go back to being on his own as he had always thought he would be or if he was to be with the person he knew was the love of his life.
She still wasn't saying anything. She now had more tears falling down those pretty freckled cheeks. Gods, he wanted to hold her.
Stepping a little closer still, he continued. "Please forgive me if I'm overstepping. I don't know if I'm saying the right things. I— this is new to me and I don't expect you to feel the same. I know I'm probably just a foolish man—"
"You're not." She cut him off, her voice a little louder than before.
Suddenly he felt his entire body go rigid. Maybe there was a sliver of hope.
"What?" He managed to huff out.
She slowly began stepping closer to him, wiping the tears off her face. "You're not foolish, Sirius. I stayed behind that night because I saw something in you that I wished the others had seen in me. Something that I knew only you could understand. It hurt me. It hurt me seeing you like that and it made me angry that they didn't try to help you either."
"In all fairness, I don't think I would have accepted their help." He shrugged.
"They should have at least tried! And it was killing me seeing you drowning yourself in your sorrow. You were practically begging to be heard and I was the only one who could hear you because I knew. I knew what it was like to keep living in the past, to want to feel the way I felt before we were forced into war. Sirius, I never thought I would feel that way again. Not until you."
"At the risk of not making assumptions and sounding like an idiot, I have to ask what that is?" He stepped closer to her still.
"Happy. I never thought I'd feel happy again. With you, everything feels good again. Better than good. Better than before."
Stepping directly in front of her, he cupped her face. "Say it, Hermione. Please say it. I need to hear you say it." He was begging her with his stare.
"I love you, too. Sirius, I love you so much." Hermione confessed.
Finally closing the distance between them, he captured her lips with his own.
It felt like his soul was on fire. It'd been years since Sirius had escaped Azkaban, yet still, before Hermione, he had felt like he was still there. Everywhere he turned, every room he was in at Grimmauld Place felt like it was plagued by dementors —still taking any semblance of happiness he tried to cling to.
A successfully conjured patronus charm was a deterrence to dementors, to that same darkness he was so familiar with. He knew what it took to manage such magic. They had been taught back in school —his friends and even his godson had managed to conjure one for themselves. Sirius never had. The powerful joy necessary for it had never been something he felt capable of achieving.
But kissing Hermione, that felt like that was all he needed to successfully conjure a patronus. He was consumed by pure and complete happiness.
He'd kissed many others in his life; witches and wizards, but none were ever quite like this. He was kissing her with so much passion, he didn't know his breath from hers.
It felt like time had come to a standstill. As if the universe had known that these two souls had finally come together, after however many lifetimes of looking for one another again. Up until Hermione, he didn't believe in love, and now that he knew it was very real, he might have to believe in the possibility of soulmates, too.
He knew he had to come up for breath, but he never wanted to stop kissing her. He had a year's worth of kisses to make up for; to pour all of his immeasurable love into and show her until the end of time how much he loved her.
Finally breaking their kiss, he rested his forehead against hers. He took a moment to look at her. He never wanted to look away. Closing in to give her a more tender kiss against her lips, she smiled back against his.
And then she was laughing.
"What's so funny, hmm?" He asked, unable to tear his eyes away from what could possibly be the most beautiful image he'd ever seen. Her laughing —easily one of the best sounds he'd ever heard. He wanted to make her laugh forever. That was his favourite song.
Gathering herself and leveling her breath, she confessed, "I'm just happy. I never thought that after the war, after everything that this was even possible."
"I think it's no secret that the possibility of me ever being this happy again was a thing that I could never fathom. Hermione, this past year has been the best year of my life since the last year I was able to spend with James and Lily. If you'll let me, I will spend the rest of my life showing you just how happy you make me."
"Don't go throwing around words like that, old man, or you'll never get rid of me." She quipped as she played with the neckline of his shirt.
"Old man, huh?" He barked out a laugh. "Well, I suppose it's a good thing I'm never letting go."
"Yes, I suppose it is."
Upon Sirius' descent into the veil, Grimmauld Place had automatically gone to Harry. Before he even had a chance to live there, Sirius had once again taken residence there. During his absence, Remus had told Harry about his and the Marauders' adventures growing up. Some of which had taken place at Potter Manor, making Harry curiously wonder what had happened to his father's childhood home.
Harry had informed Sirius that after Remus' death, he had begged Tonks to help him with research and looking into ways to acquire Potter Manor for his own.
During her research in the many files and backlogs of the Ministry, Tonks had come upon Charlus and Dorea's will, which had been filed around the time that they had decided to join the original Order of the Phoenix. Before her own curiosity got the best of her, she left the documents sealed and turned them over to Harry.
Reading them over, he had discovered that his grandparents had stated that upon their deaths, James would become sole owner and heir of the Potter home and their assets. Subsequently, they had added a stipulation that upon James and his partner's death, said home and assets would automatically belong to any children he may have.
Harry, utterly perplexed by the information he had just read over, took the information to Hermione who in turn helped him hire a wizarding solicitor to look over how to regain access to Potter Manor.
After many sleepless nights and trips to the Ministry, Harry had once more brought the House of Potter back to its rightful owner. He and Ginny had moved in right after graduation, having had their wedding there, just like his parents. They were now raising their own family with another on the way.
Although the place now held rather fond memories full of firsts, with no one else to turn Grimmauld Place over to, Sirius was more than okay with leaving the place behind.
After escaping the prison of his childhood, Sirius never anticipated finding himself in another. Azkaban and living in hiding were each a prison of their own. Returning to his original place of escape had never crossed his mind.
The parlour room —where his mother once told him he was no son of hers and wished he was never born— was now the place where he told the only person he'd ever been in love with that he loved her.
His bedroom —a place that he once silently cried tears of anger and frustration after his family failed to force him into becoming a Death Eater— was now the place where he worshipped the woman he loved.
Once, Kreacher had been ordered to refrain from providing him food while he sat with his family in the dining room as they ate. That same dining room now had become the place where many of his and Hermione's mornings began. Where they had their lunch and dinners over many conversations of what they wanted their futures to look like.
Every place that Sirius had once been reminded of the horrors of his childhood, a place he held so much hate and animosity toward, had been replaced with fond memories.
After confessing their feelings for each other, they never spent a moment apart. Which wasn't entirely different from before, but now they at least didn't have to hide the fact that they were desperate for more from each other.
The only thing left to do was tell everyone else. Both equally nervous for different reasons, they decided they wouldn't hide their relationship and should tell their friends as soon as possible.
After missing Harry growing up, Sirius did everything he could to make up for the time that he lost with him. He had worked hard to be the godfather that Harry needed —that he deserved— before being taken away from him. He feared that this news could be a breaking point. He worried that his own relationship with Hermione might be cause for Harry to push him away.
Hermione was afraid that Mrs. Weasley would be disappointed in her. Given her poor reaction to the very false allegations written about her in The Daily Prophet fourth year, she was prepared for the worst.
After much conversation about the best way to let their friends know, they decided to do it after one of their Sunday dinners, suggesting that Sirius host it at his place. There was a certain poetry in it; coming full circle to sharing their relationship with their loved ones on a Sunday night dinner at Grimmauld Place. Their relationship had really first begun on one, it felt perfect somehow.
Sitting together in the parlour post-dinner, following awkward small talk, they decided not to wait any longer. Harry, Ginny, and Tonks sat shocked at first at the reveal. Sirius and Hermione took that as a good sign; they figured anything was better than yelling.
Ever the brave Gryffindor, Harry began to speak. "I'm not going to pretend that this isn't…strange. But I'd be lying if I said that I was upset by it. You two are the most important people in my life…erm…besides Ginny, of course." Huffing out a nervous laugh, he looked lovingly to his wife sitting beside him.
He continued, "Hermione, you— you were there for me since first year. Even after Ron and I were mean to you. You so willingly helped me, you never questioned anything or wavered your faith in me, and I don't know how I got so fucking lucky that you never left my side."
Even though the Golden Trio were still friends, there was no doubt that Ron's departure from the tent during the horcrux hunt strengthened the friendship between her and Harry. If Hermione had to be truly honest with herself, she'd sooner call Harry and Ginny her best friends before Ron. His leaving them behind in the tent fractured the invisible rope of friendship intertwined between them. Whilst the one between her and Harry's was growing stronger by the day, the one between her and Ron was thinned down to a thread. Still strong enough to hold on but weak enough that it could break just as easily.
"You risked everything for me, Hermione. You never once complained. You even offered to go with me to the Forbidden Forest when you figured out what I had to do. No one's ever done that for me besides my parents." Harry's voice wavered into a soft sob. Ginny reached for him. One hand rubbed his back, the other held his hand.
Blinking away tears that were threatening to fall, Sirius broke his gaze from Harry. He looked down at his hands, at his fingers that were intertwined with Hermione's. She gave his hand a small squeeze for comfort.
Sirius still couldn't look at Harry. He and Ginny reminded him too much of Lily and James.
Regaining his composure, Harry resumed. "You lost your parents, too. Maybe not the same way I did, but you were still there to…fuck. If there's anyone in the world that I know deserves to be happy —truly happy and so loved, it's you."
Hermione gave Sirius' hand another squeeze before removing hers to wrap Harry in a hug.
Sirius sat watching their exchange, and he was honest enough with himself to admit that he was jealous. Not of Harry. Never of Harry.
He often saw the way they interacted. The way they would laugh together at their inside jokes, or oftentimes they would finish each other's thoughts. Sometimes they wouldn't even have to speak, able to hold a conversation by simply just looking at each other.
Sirius only ever had that with one person. Even after all these years, Sirius missed James like it was just yesterday that he had found him at Godric's Hollow. He still saw that image of him everytime he closed his eyes.
Sirius knew that Lily would have absolutely adored Hermione. James, well, James would have gotten him back for all the times Sirius made fun of him for being completely besotted with Lily.
He smiled fondly at the thought.
Stepping out of the green flames of the floo, Sirius noticed Hermione laying down on the floor of the drawing room. Setting aside the box he carried in his hands, he curiously stared at her for a moment. Her eyes were closed; she seemed to not hear him arrive and he truly didn't want to disrupt her from her thoughts. Hands in his pockets and head cocked to the side, he regarded her for a few more seconds before walking over beside her.
"Sweetheart?" Smiling down at her, he inquired. "What are you doing?"
Before squinting one eye open, she smiled back. The smile he knew was only reserved for him. His favourite smile.
"Hi, darling." She sighed out.
"Hello, yourself. Might I ask again, what are you doing?"
"Oh, you know, just laying about. Did you bring in the last box?"
Motioning his head over to the box marked 'bedroom' beside the fireplace, he nodded.
Slowly, her smile turned into a full grin. One of those grins that usually made her nose crinkle a little and hide a few of her freckles.
"We're all moved in?" Her eyes now open, she stared up at him. Holding his hands out, he helped her stand up as she took them.
"We're officially all moved in, Little Bird."
The nickname had fallen into place much like their relationship had; fluidly, in the midst of a shared routine. Hermione had a habit of singing to herself absently on a regular basis. Sirius had taken notice and felt the moniker fitting for her. "Like a little bird, you are, always singing your songs."
"Home. This is now our home. Can you believe it?" Beaming up at him, she contentedly sighed.
"You know..." Clutching her hair with his hand, and fisting her curls softly, he slowly began placing kisses down from her lips to her neck.
Sirius slowly walked her backwards to carefully push her against the wall. Knowing just where to kiss her. He was desperate to extract those sweet gasps and moans from her throat, the ones that he had become addicted to.
Making his way lower and lower,he looked up at her with a smirk from his favourite place on her body.
"I think we should really make this place our own."
The rest of the night was spent with Sirius worshipping her. Pleasuring her, swallowing every one of her moans. On every surface available to them in their new home.
If anyone ever asked how they spent their first night in their new home, he never tired of the slight blush on her face when trying to come up with a less explicit answer.
He was jolted from his sleep, a nightmare that was no stranger to him anymore. Except, it was worse because not only was it a nightmare, it was a memory. A memory of the worst day of his life.
He turned to grab his wand to check the time and date.
7:54 am. 27th March, 2003
Happy birthday, Prongs, he thought.
Sirius had been incredibly grateful for everything as of late, but he couldn't help but feel some sort of guilt for finally being happy. Did he deserve any of this?
He was the one that pushed James and Lily into making Peter their secret keeper because he didn't trust Remus. He was the reason Remus was alone for 12 years, having to endure the full moons on his own once more —something the other Marauders had promised him he never had to do again.
He was the reason Harry was on his own, having to fight a murderous megalomaniac with no actual family with him for support.
He was the reason for everyone's misery.
For Hermione's. The reason she didn't have her parents, why she was tortured by his fucking cousin. Merlín fuck, he wished he could have been the one to kill her.
His choices both leading up to and on that night were the reason for everyone's loss.
With Hermione already gone for the day, Sirius got out of bed and made a straight beeline to the spirits cart that had carried a bottle of Ogden's Finest. The bottle had been given to them during their house warming party —a drink which Sirius hadn't touched in 3 years.
He served himself a glass, only to stare at it for what seemed like eons. Finally taking it in his hands, he let the glass touch his lips for the briefest of moments, knowing well that if he took even just the slightest sip, it wouldn't be just one sip.
But he needed that one sip to spiral into a second, a third, and beyond. More than anything, he needed to not feel anything at all.
Cheers, prongsie, He thought as he took the drink down in one gulp.
The rest of the day was a blur.
Somewhere along the way, consciousness had slipped away from him. It came back to him slowly, much later, with small hands softly shaking him awake.
"Sirius? Sirius, my love, wake up, please." A hand ran through his hair before he felt himself slowly being held up. "Darling, come on."
He began blinking his eyes open, taking note of the person holding him up.
"Little Bird." He slurred.
"Come on, sweetheart. Let's get you cleaned up." Hermione replied softly, holding him closer as they both ascended up the stairs.
"It's my fault, Little Bird. It's all my fault…I could have been a better friend…I don't deserve you…" Sirius wasn't entirely sure how to convey all that he was feeling, but he knew he had to explain what happened.
"C'mon, darling. We'll get you showered and put to bed."
After Hermione had helped him take his potions so he'd be able to shower and not wake up with a hangover, they were laying in bed. He held her as close as he physically could. Afraid, somehow, that if he didn't, she would disappear; just as all those he loved had. Holding her close, he drifted off to sleep, with no nightmares to haunt him.
Waking up the next morning, Sirius looked down to see her asleep on his chest. With only the sound of her faint breathing filling their room, he looked down at her, committing her face to memory. Making sure that when he closed his eyes, he only saw her. Always her.
His fingers traced her skin, connecting the freckles under her eyes into shapes. With the softest of touches, he traced a triangle, a diamond. Until—
His breath caught in his throat. How had he never noticed?
Sirius could spend hours watching Hermione doing absolutely anything. When she wouldn't notice, or when doing the most mundane of tasks, or when she was taking from him what she needed and fell apart on top of him. He never wanted to miss a moment.
Had it been there this whole time?
Tracing it slowly with feather light touches, staring back at him, in her freckles was, unmistakably, the Canis Major constellation. A perfect series of dots splattered on her face that, once connected, spelled him.
He'd made jokes of his name before, never really letting those around him know that he'd hated it. It was a reminder of the family he came from. A tradition of a family who hated muggles. Muggleborns. People like his witch.
But now, seeing his name spelled out in her freckles, in the stars on her face, he found that he didn't hate his name at all. He found that the one thing he had felt but been unsure of was now confirmed.
Hermione was his soulmate. And he was hers.
"Shall I stay? Would it be a sin if I can't help falling in love with you?"
"Oh, you arsehole!" Hermione squealed as she was being tipped over by Sirius during their dance.
He couldn't help the bark of laughter that escaped his throat as he once again took her into his arms, gently sliding his hand softly up her back to envelope her in his arms. "Is that any way to talk to your new husband, Little Bird?"
"Like a river flows surely to the sea…"
"Well, Mr. Granger-Black, you may now be my husband, but that doesn't exempt you from being an arsehole." She huffed with finality.
"Well, Mrs. Granger-Black," He mimicked. "We'll see just what sort of punishment you calling me an arsehole earns you tonight." Leaning in to kiss her, he let Hermione slowly melt into the kiss before softly biting her bottom lip while pulling away.
"Mmm. I can't wait." With a mischievous glint in her eyes, she whispered against his lips.
"Darling, so it goes some things, you know, are meant to be."
Extending his arm out while still holding onto her hand, he spun her. Her dress flowed effortlessly around her. Hermione kept her brown eyes fixated on his gray as she slowly walked back into his arms, wrapping hers around his neck.
Even with everyone watching the newly wed Mr. and Mrs. Granger-Black, Sirius only had eyes for his new wife. As far as he was concerned, they were the only ones in that tent, in the backyard of Potter Manor, dancing their first dance to "Can't Help Falling in Love."
Their wedding reception was very intimate. Not wanting to risk The Daily Prophet intruding in on their day, and Sirius not wanting his bride upset considering the history between her and the paper, they couldn't risk inviting anyone that wasn't one of their closest friends.
Sirius was working on non-magically building more bookshelves for Hermione in the library he had designed all her own when her patronus arrived to let him know she would be home a bit sooner than normal.
Taking that as a sign to be done with his project for the day, he decided to head upstairs and get started on dinner for them both. Upon entering the kitchen, he remembered the extra food Molly had sent them home with from their dinner with them a few days prior, deciding that it would be enough of a meal for tonight. He was summoning over the last bits of dinner to the table, when he heard the Floo activate.
"Is that you, Little Bird?" He looked up as he called Hermione over from the dining room.
He heard her footsteps growing louder as she made her way over, giving him a bright smile as soon as her eyes fell upon his.
"Hello, darling. I see you've got dinner all settled already." Moving across the room directly in front of Sirius, she wrapped her arms around his waist as she kissed him.
Breathing in the smell of her shampoo, a smile tugged on his lips. "I figured you'd be hungry by the time you got home. I wanted to make sure you didn't have to wait to eat. I know how you get hangry."
"Oh, I do not!" She laughed, lightly swatting at his shoulder.
Laughing with her he pulled out a chair for her to take a seat. Joining her, they silently enjoyed their food.
"Have you given any thought to who you want as your best man?" Setting down her spoon, she looked up at him as she took a drink of her water.
"I have a little, yeah. I was thinking about asking Tonks. I—I don't have—I thought since she is my cousin and we've gotten rather close since moving and helping with Teddy, that I'd ask her."
He wished he had Remus, James, or even Regulus. He had been James' best man at his and Lily's wedding. He was absolutely pissed by the end of the night when he vowed to James that he'd make him the best man at his wedding. Remus, taking no offense to this, laughed instead at the ridiculousness of the thought of Sirius ever getting married. James had apparently agreed with Remus stating that he absolutely would because Sirius marrying one day would be less probable than the Pride of Portree ever winning another Quidditch World Cup…and they'd only ever won twice.
"Look at that, Prongsie," He thought to himself. "I'm getting married before the Pride of Portree win their third World Cup."
"Actually, sweetheart, there was something else I wanted to run by you." Fully leaning back into his chair, he took Hermione's hand.
"Okay…"
"Nothing terrible. Just something I was thinking about while working on your library today." She slightly nodded her head as a sign for him to continue. "You mentioned to me a bit ago that you wanted to keep your last name but hyphenate it with mine."
"I did, yes."
"And then I got to thinking—"
"Sirius, I'm not changing my mind. I'm keeping my last name-"
"Baby, no. You misunderstand me. Please, I was saying that I was thinking about doing the same with mine."
"You— what? You want to what?" She could hardly do anything else but stare at him in shock.
He leaned closer to her as he took their intertwined hands and put them against his chest. "I want to take your last name, too."
"Sirius, darling, you don't have to do that." She seemed utterly shocked.
"I know I don't. But I want to. You agree that we're soulmates, yes?"
"I know that we're soulmates, I wouldn't have suggested a soulmate bond otherwise."
"I— It's important to me that I do this. For centuries my family made sure that their precious Noble and Most Ancient House of Black remained pure. I want to put an end to all their hatred, I want to make a better example of that name, I want to throw away everything they believed in and start all over. With you. This, us getting married, isn't just about you joining my family. It's about us. If we're going to do a soulmate bond, I want to do this equally. I don't want you to be the only one that makes changes. We're in this together, I want to be a part of you as much as you're a part of me."
For a moment, she sat there staring at him. Dumbfounded. He was worried that maybe this was too much, that maybe he had finally said something that would make her run away. Maybe she hadn't really given much thought to them doing a very permanent soul bonding. Just as quickly as that thought entered his mind, he found his witch perched on his lap taking his face in both her hands, forcing him to look at her.
"I'm not having any doubts, Sirius. I'm not. I'm just surprised. With everything I know about pureblood families, their main concern has always been on keeping their name alive and pure. I shouldn't be surprised about this coming from you, and really I guess I'm not. I'm more surprised that I somehow managed to fall in love with someone as thoughtful and as caring and as unbelievably selfless as you. If that's truly what you want, my love, of course I'm more than okay with it."
Sirius had to close his eyes to take in every word she had said. She wasn't scared. She wasn't having second thoughts. Before resting his forehead against hers, he gave a soft kiss there. "It was an easy choice once the thought crossed my mind. It wouldn't feel right to just have you change your name. You're not the only one making changes, and it would mean the world to me to carry around something that belongs to you."
"I love you, Sirius Black. I love you more than I ever thought it was possible to love anyone." Hermione went to readjust herself on his lap, now straddling him with each leg on either side of him. "You do not have anything else you need to prove to anyone. You never had anything to prove in the first place. You are and have always been a good man. You have always fought against what your family wanted for you, you even joined The Order to fight the very people you were being forced to join. The people that matter know the person that you truly are. And I think it's a wonderful idea, baby, but I want you to know that I am so proud to take the name Black as my own."
Sirius knew that the one thing he was scared of the most was not being accepted. Being truly understood from everything he went through, to how he felt, and wanting to be accepted for the person he unapologetically was, he found that for him true intimacy was simply being understood.
He often wondered how he got lucky enough to have to have somehow convinced this witch that he was worth it. Everything he had ever been told and everything he'd experienced growing up pointed to him not being worth anything at all. He felt like he was constantly surrounded in darkness, afraid that if he ever got close enough to someone else that it would consume them, too.
But Hermione was a guiding light. Not only did he feel the warmth of her light, but she made him want to be a better man.
Someone worth her love.
"What're you thinking about?" Her question broke him from his reverie.
She had her arms around his neck, her hands fingers caressing the hair at the base of it. It took him a moment to remember where he was: at Potter Manor, under a beautifully decorated tent, dancing his first dance with his new bride, surrounded by their closest friends and family.
"How I ever got so lucky. But since I have you here," He laughed as he tugged her closer, connecting their waists together as they danced.
She looked up at him with a look of pure adoration, a soft smile tugged at her lips.
"I haven't ever taken much time to thank you. I don't particularly like to think about what I would have turned into if I had been left to my own devices, and whilst I'm not one to believe that people were made to save others, you helped me save myself. You're sunlight when the darkness won't leave me. You're so much more than my best friend and my lover. You're the breath in my lungs, the beat of my heart. I love you, Hermione Jean Granger-Black."
"Baby, you don't have anything to thank me for. You did so much more for me than I could ever begin to express. Somewhere along the way I fell completely and hopelessly in love with you. And now, I'll be able to spend the rest of our lives thanking you for everything you've done for me. I'll never stop loving you. You are too well tangled in my soul, Sirius Orion Granger-Black."
Holding her impossibly closer, all he wanted in that moment was to apparate them away from everyone else. Would it be rude to have left their wedding reception after only 20 minutes? Did he care? There was only one thing he knew with certainty: marrying Hermione and bonding his soul with hers would be the greatest honour of his life.
Sirius had mentioned to Hermione that he didn't need anything to be done for his birthday. Forty-seven, who needed to celebrate forty-seven?
"An old man doesn't need to be celebrating his birthday anymore. What's so special about forty-seven, anyway?" He told her.
"Nonsense, when will you be forty-seven again? That's all the more reason to celebrate you, darling. Besides, I already owled everyone." She replied with finality.
Who was he to deny his wife and her wants?
Their guests were now long gone, and he found himself cleaning the sitting room with Hermione nowhere to be heard or in sight. 'She must have fallen asleep,' he thought. With a wave of his hand, he cleaned everything up and put the misplaced furniture back in it's rightful place.
Turning on the spot to go look for Hermione, he found her leaning on the doorway with her arms crossed. "You all done here? I've just finished in the kitchen."
"Fucking hell, witch, how long have you been standing there? I haven't heard a peep from you for 20 minutes."
"Are you all done or not, because I have a surprise for you." She had the audacity to laugh at him.
"Hermione, I told you I didn't need anything—" He couldn't help but roll his eyes; did this witch listen to anything he told her?
"Stop. Come on." She was now dragging him by the hand up the stairs to his study. "I know you said not to get you anything—"
"So she does listen to me when I talk." He quipped.
"Will you shut up and let me speak?" She huffed out although he could tell she wanted to laugh. "As I was saying, I know you said you didn't want me to get you anything, and to be perfectly honest I didn't really know where to start on what to even get you. What in the world do you get for a man who has been rich since the moment he was born? Naturally, I still couldn't not get anything for my husband. Could you imagine the field day The Prophet would have with the headlines? Before you know it, they'd be offering you up to someone else for my being such a terrible wife."
"Cheeky. Have I ever told you you're cheeky?"
She abruptly stopped before him, turning on the spot. "Plenty of times, baby, but I do believe that that's why you love me."
Her hand came up to push back the hair that had fallen over his eyes. Sirius never got tired of her small gestures, leaning in on her hand as he closed his eyes. He slowly inhaled the scent of her; the woods, earth, and petrichor. No matter where he went or where he was, she was always with him.
"I love you for many other reasons, Little Bird."
"I love you more." For a moment all she could do was stare at him. He found she did that often, look into his eyes as if she was searching for something. Sirius hoped she never found whatever she was looking for so she would never stop looking at him. "It's in here." She nudged her head toward his study.
He thoroughly examined the room, yet nothing looked out of the ordinary. Hermione stepped into his line of sight as she waved her hand to drop the disillusionment charm on a now visible canvas above the fireplace in his study still covered by a sheet.
"Did you get a charming portrait of your handsome husband, pet? Seems awfully unnecessary considering I'm right here." Sirius quipped, but then went rigid.
He felt as though someone had taken a hold of his heart and was squeezing it. He couldn't breathe as he slightly stumbled backwards. Hermione was instantly beside him.
"Hello, big brother."
Sirius could do nothing but let out a sob. He looked into eyes that were identical to his, subtle curls much shorter than his, but the same black that matched his own. The same aristocratic features and charming smile. A smile he hadn't seen since before he went to Hogwarts.
"Reg-Reggie?" How he managed even that was beyond him. "Hermione, how did- where? I—" His chest was caving in.
"As I said before, I didn't know what to get you for your birthday, and I know from the day we told you what actually happened with Regulus that you have regretted your treatment of him since. You said you wish you'd taken him with you when you ran away. I didn't know what to get you, so I figured I'd get you your brother back."
All Sirius could do in that moment was cling on to Hermione. He buried his face between her neck and shoulder and sobbed.
It was true, what she said. Sirius had regretted every encounter he had had with Regulus during school. Regulus had died trying to bring down the very person their family tried to sell them to. Even going as far as Regulus actually being branded himself. Sirius had regretted not protecting his brother, not taking into consideration that maybe his brother obeyed their parents in order to survive.
Sirius composed himself —although this wasn't the first time he'd cried in front of Hermione, he didn't want to make her feel as though she'd done anything wrong. He rested his forehead against hers and held her face in place with both his hands.
She closed her eyes as she began with a whisper, "I know it's not really him and I don't pretend it's anything close to the real thing but I tried—"
Sirius interrupted her with a kiss. There were many times in the four years that they had been together where he wondered if he could possibly love her more than he already did. She still took his breath away, and while he still wasn't good with words, she was good at reading his eyes and all the emotions behind them. Hermione was a fire, and when Sirius first got to know her, he was nothing more than dying embers. She lit him back to life.
She had a way of knowing just exactly what Sirius needed. They worked well that way. They both always knew what the other needed.
Breaking their kiss, she looked at him nervously. "I hope you're not upset."
"Upset? Hermione, this is the best present I could have ever gotten. I haven't—" His voice broke. 'Pull yourself together, Padfood, goddamn it.' He turned to look at the portrait of his brother who was sitting on a desk that was a replica of Sirius' own. He turned back to look at her. "Is he inside my study?"
"Well, I know it's ridiculous to get a portrait of your brother in your study, but this way he's here with you. I also had others made so that he can walk about the house if he so wishes. Just not, you know, in our bedroom and the bathrooms, of course."
"Of course. You brilliant, beautiful, wonderful witch." He kissed her once more.
"I'll leave you two to catch up. I'm going to take a bath."
Once he heard Hermione close the door behind her, he stood up directly in front of his brother.
"She's a keeper, that one." Regulus mused from his spot on the portrait.
"That she is. Regulus, I-I don't quite know what to say. I don't even know how this is entirely possible. Hermione never got to meet you."
"Well, quite like most things are possible, big brother. Magic. Now, please tell me what I've missed. You married a muggleborn and took her name? Walburga must be rolling in her grave."
He stayed up rather late catching up with his little brother —an opportunity he thought he had lost the moment he stepped foot into Potter Manor all those years ago when he left his brother behind. He still couldn't quite believe it, but that wasn't going to stop him from taking advantage of finally having him back.
Sirius went to bed that night not quite sure how he ever got so lucky. As he climbed into bed, he pulled Hermione close. He buried his face in her hair as she snuggled her own close to his chest.
Perhaps it was the excitement of the day, but sleep was evading him. He laid there thinking of every single moment in his life, wondering where in it he had done something right to have the life he had now. Twelve years in Azkaban had a way of making a man feel like he'd never have any happiness in his life again. Sirius often felt that way even before Azkaban, in moments that felt like they'd never end in the hands of Walburga.
Sirius no longer looked back at his life with hatred. While there were still moments in his life that he regretted, people that he wished he still had here with him, he knew deep down that every single choice he made led him to this very moment now.
And in this moment, he felt the most grateful for Hermione, for the love that they shared.
If Sirius had been asked twenty years ago if he believed in love or soulmates, he would have hit the inquirer with a stinging hex. He couldn't be bothered to waste time falling in love with anyone when he saw the way it had treated others. Sirius was even less inclined to have ever believed that there was someone specifically made for someone else.
The moment Sirius found Hermione in his library and offered him her friendship, that all changed. He never anticipated falling in love with her, but falling for her was as easy as breathing. He would never be finished falling in love.
Whatever else life threw at him, he knew he could face it, so long as he had his soulmate by his side.