Disclaimer: Not mine. Shut up.
Author's Note: Okay. So I'm not in the best mood today, because it's the anniversary of my mom's death. Pretty sad that I'm writing a fanfic, when I should be spreading her ashes.
Anyway. It's a bit of an angsty chapter, but I tried to make it sound as good as possible. Reviews would be much appreciated.
Love,
i wanna dance with you in the rain.
New Years, and Hogwarts Again
Evening fell slowly, putting a peaceful close on the last night of the holidays. The snow had finally stopped falling, but the layers resting over the countryside were as serene as ever.
Sirius sat, brooding, in a chair by the small window in the bedroom he shared with Remus. It was ironic, really. She had apparently loved the ring, but if only he had told her that it was from him, she would have flung it in his face. Still, the fact that she adored something he gave her almost made him smile. But then he remembered that she was leaving tomorrow, along with Harry, Ron and Ginny, to go back to Hogwarts. He'd have to go back to Grimmauld Place with the rest of the Order, and wait again until the mid-winter vacation when they would all come visit again.
"Sirius!"
Someone was calling him from the kitchen, most likely to tell him that Fred and George were about to set off their New Years' fireworks.
"Sirius!"
Resignedly, he stood up and walked heavily to the porch, where everyone was awaiting the show. He forced himself to smile as Harry ran up to him. "Hey Snuffles, where were you?"
"Busy," he answered shortly, but clapping him heartily on the back. "Where's your girlfriend?"
"With Hermione," Harry replied absentmindedly, now being pulled away by the twins who wanted some help.
Sirius nodded, not even bothering to reply. His mind drifted to that morning a few days ago in the kitchen when he had walked in on her making coffee, dressed only in a long t-shirt. She had looked so beautiful then…
Suddenly, both Ginny and Hermione came running out of the house, laughing. Then they stopped, looking out for Harry and Ron. Sirius turned away, not wanting to see Hermione kissing him.
"She really has gotten to you, hasn't she?" said a quiet voice in his ear.
"Remus," Sirius growled. "I'm warning you."
"You're like a lovesick puppy. Staring at her and following her everywhere."
"Remus! I'll haunt your arse if you don't shut up. And it'll be worse than your transformations."
Remus laughed. "I really do appreciate your sense of humor, Padfoot."
"I'm glad," Sirius growled again, "because I don't appreciate yours."
There was a pause, broken only by Mrs. Weasley's shouts at the twins, as Remus contemplated what to say next.
"Maybe you should tell her." His voice was quiet, but Sirius heard him perfectly.
He spun around. "Are you insane? She'd be disgusted!"
"Ah, so you're admitting it," Remus said, a slight smirk on his lips.
"I'm not admitting anything." Sirius turned back around, crossing his arms.
"Fine. But think about it. She should know."
Sirius listened to his friend's footsteps fading into the small crowd that was the Order. He felt distanced from them all. Feeling even more bitter than before, he sat onto one end of the loveseat that was magically suspended on the porch. What did Remus know about his feelings to start giving him suggestions?
"Hey." Someone sat down next to him. It was Hermione.
He couldn't think of anything to say. After a few seconds of silence, she began to look a little awkward.
"Why aren't you with everyone else?" she continued.
Sirius looked down at her, her hot cheeks, her hair braided down her back and hidden under one of Molly's woolen hats. The way she was biting her lower lip nervously.
"I don't belong there," he said heavily, looking towards the dark sky.
"Oh, Sirius," she said gently. "Don't say that. You belong with us more than anyone else. You're the only family Harry has, and you mean so much to the rest of us."
He let out a bark of laughter. "Of course."
She was quiet, and her gaze rose to the sky as well. How he wished he could stroke her cheek, and kiss her hair, her neck, her lips. But then, the self-repulsion came again. What would she think? He was a lust-crazed, old man.
"Look," Hermione murmured, leaning up to him and pointing to the stars. "It's Sirius."
"What?" he asked, confused.
She laughed, but sweetly. "Sirius. The constellation." She slid her hand down his arm, took his hand, and intertwined her fingers with his, using them to point at the collection of stars once more. It was a merely friendly gesture, but Sirius had to grit his teeth at the feeling of his tightening pants.
"I wanted to say sorry for Sunday," Hermione said, referring to Christmas morning.
She still hadn't let go of his hand, and Sirius had a little trouble collecting himself. "Don't apologize," he finally managed. "It was my fault."
She didn't contradict him, whether from not knowing what to say or from agreeing with him. They were silent.
Fred and George's firework show had begun, and the dazzling reds, golds, and silvers illuminated the sky above them. The sparkles had been enchanted to float back to the ground, and now it looked like an ethereal shower was raining gemstones onto the snow. Everyone had stopped making noise, transfixed by the beauty of it all.
Finally, Albus Dumbledore stepped forward, having come specially for the night's celebration.
"I would like to make a toast," he started, raising a glass of wine, "to all the people gathered here today, and all the people who are not, because they have been murdered by the very power which we are fighting."
"We toast, so that we may all once more live in peace without the worry of a Dark Mark hovering above our homes, and so that we may all once more live in true happiness and not hide behind masks as we simply survive from day to day."
"Let us stay strong, and keep faith in ourselves. Let us love those around us, and not surrender in weakness. And most importantly, let us make choices that are right, and not choices that are easy. We thank Merlin for this chance at a new year, and let the countdown begin!"
Dumbledore took an elegant sip from his glass as the group cheered. Tonks, Mrs. Weasley, and Ginny were all wiping their eyes, caught by the painful truth of the speech. And then, as a group, they all began to chant.
"10…"
Sirius would have liked to weep, too. It was as if Dumbledore had looked inside his very mind and said exactly what he had been thinking and wishing. But there were no tears left for him to cry. He was too bitter. The imprisonment in Azkaban and now in his own home had certainly taken a toll.
"9…"
It was all Voldemort's fault. He had achieved what he had always wanted. Tearing families apart, morphing love to hate. How much longer would this last?
"8…"
Instead, Sirius focused on the small, warm hand holding his, and then looked straight at Hermione. She had silent tears coursing down her cheeks, and her eyes were closed. The salt had glued her eyelashes into little triangles.
"7…"
He reached up slowly, one hand gently cupping Hermione's cheek. She had completely forgotten he was there. Her eyes flew open in surprise.
"6…"
"Don't cry," he whispered. "I hate to see you like this." His thumb carefully stroked away the tears.
"5…"
His black eyes were mesmerizing, but this time Hermione knew he wasn't prying inside her mind. What was hidden behind those eyes? He had her under his spell, she was completely oblivious to all else. "I—" she faltered.
"4…"
Sirius wasn't thinking either. All that mattered was that he was holding her, and she wasn't pushing him away. The thought that someone might be watching didn't register.
"3…"
Suddenly, she spoke up. "Sirius? W-will you kiss me?" her brown eyes raised to his. "It's New Years…You're supposed to..."
"2…"
He sat there, immobilized, and utterly astounded. Had she asked him to kiss her? Kiss her?
"1…"
"Now?" she asked again. Sirius realized that he might never get another chance. Leaning in slightly, he finally closed the few inches between their lips. The instant they made contact, he felt an electric impulse hit him. Her breath was sweet, and her lips even sweeter. He could feel Hermione pressing into him slightly, and it gave him a thrilling satisfaction that she wanted him.
But then, as everyone began cheering for the opening of the new year, they were heartlessly struck back into reality. Sirius pulled away, perhaps a little too hastily, but didn't withdraw his hand from her cheek.
Hermione's eyes were wide as she looked at him. He didn't smile. The moment was too perfect.
"I'm sorry," she murmured quickly, suddenly looking down. "I shouldn't have." And the next moment, she was torn from him, running back into the house.
And Sirius was left sitting there, still unaware of anything else around him.
"You kissed her," Remus said frankly as he walked into their shared bedroom and closed the door.
Sirius said nothing, just sat on his small cot and looked out the window.
"And then she ran away," he continued.
Sirius still made no reply, but it took a lot of willpower.
"I warned you," Remus finished.
"You were the one who told me to tell her!" Sirius finally exploded.
"Tell her, not kiss her," Remus said calmly, pulling on a sweater and sitting on his own bed.
"I'm going to sleep," Sirius spat, not at all amused by his constant discussions with Lupin.
"You know, Dumbledore saw," Remus added.
"Moony. Shut. Up."
"Did you even think what will happen if she tells Harry? Or Ron? That boy is in love with her!"
It was the last straw for Sirius. He sprang up. "No, Remus. Stop. That buffoon has no idea what love is. I am in love with her. This is not the little game it used to be when we were at school! So stop goading me that I can't. I know I can't, but I love her. So just give it a rest."
It didn't make much sense, but he was desperate to have said it. To say it aloud. That he loved her. That he, Sirius Black, was in love with Hermione Granger.
Remus was lost for words. "I…"
"Just don't say anything, Moony," Sirius said quietly, sinking back onto his bed and dropping his head in his hands. "I don't want to hear it, not now."
The next morning came crisp and clear, with a cold sun shining through silver clouds. A hint, perhaps, that the new year might not be so bad.
Mrs. Weasley had raided both Ron's and Ginny's rooms, unmercifully rousing the four teenagers snoring there.
So, still half asleep, they managed to get dressed and totter down for breakfast. Everyone, with the exception of Hermione, had had a very late night and had gotten less than three hours of sleep, and both Harry and Ron had hangovers, much to Molly's horror.
She made large mugs of tea with Sobering Draught, and after nearly an hour of confusion and frustration as other members of the Order who had stayed the night began waking up, Arthur was finally convinced to drive them and their trunks to King's Cross.
In the hazy commotion, no one had noticed the dark circles under Hermione's eyes, or the way she listlessly poked at her breakfast.
"Okay, you four," Mr. Weasley said as they pulled up to 9¾, "behave yourselves. And for the sake of your mother's sanity, write home at least once a week." He winked at them, and allowed them to pull their luggage out of the back of the car and load it onto trolleys. "Have a good term."
They said goodbye, and moved discreetly to the brick wall between platforms nine and ten.
"Hermione and me, then you two," Ron said gruffly, still rubbing his temples from last's night's drinking.
They pushed their way through the barrier and then through the crowd of people gathered by the train, and climbed on with their trunks. Somehow, they managed to find an empty compartment, and quickly piled in before anyone else could. Harry cursed as Crookshanks clawed out of his basket and scratched him.
Sooner than they had expected, the whistle blew, and the scarlet train chugged into motion. There was silence in their compartment for a few minutes as everyone relaxed, somewhat happy to be back out of the hectic life at the Burrow.
"Bloody hell, this hurts," Ron muttered, still holding his head.
"Come here," Hermione said gently, speaking up for the first time that day. "Lay down, put your head in my lap, and let me."
He obliged, kissing her sweetly before doing so. Less than twenty four hours ago, those lips had been Sirius's, she remembered. The worst part was, she had enjoyed it, and now she felt guilty towards Ron. He would be heartbroken. So she stroked his fiery hair, gently twisting the locks between her fingers before gently massaging his forehead.
"Ginny?" Harry asked hopefully, looking at Ron and Hermione.
She laughed and nodded, and Harry dropped himself into the same position Ron was in. Ginny began rubbing his temples as well. And, due to their lack of sleep the night before, they had both dozed off in less than ten minutes.
But Hermione was still battling the events of the previous evening in her head. "Ginny…" she started finally.
She smiled at Hermione lazily from across the compartment. "Yeah?"
"I…uh—nevermind." She couldn't do this.
But now Ginny was interested. "No, what were you going to say?"
Hermione shook her head.
"Is it about Ron?" Ginny asked, now fully alert.
"How did you kn—"
"I just sense these things," Ginny said impatiently. "Now, what's the matter?"
"Promise you won't tell," Hermione said quietly.
"Promise."
"I…er, I…"
Ginny nodded in encouragement.
"I kissed…Sirius." She finished, her cheeks flaming red.
"You what?" Ginny asked, keeping her voice low so as not to wake up the boys.
"Yes," Hermione fretted, "and I feel so guilty because of Ron, and I don't know if I should tell him or not, or if it even qualifies as cheating—"
"Was he good?" Ginny asked, a slow smile now spreading over her lips.
"And I'm really worried—wait what?" Hermione turned even brighter.
"A good kisser, I mean," Ginny clarified.
Hermione shook her head, completely confused. This wasn't going right. Ginny was supposed to be angry at her for cheating on her brother, right?
"Sirius. Is. He. A. Good. Kisser?" Ginny's tone was like to a three year old.
There was a long pause as Hermione hesitated.
"Yes," she finally said quietly. "No one's ever kissed me like that before."
Ginny pressed two fingers to her lips to stifle her giggle.
"But that's not the problem," Hermione continued, exasperated. "I don't know what to do now."
"Nothing," Ginny said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "You won't see him for two months, then you can deal. Maybe he'll forget all about it."
Hermione felt a slight disappointment when she heard that, that he might forget about it. But Ginny was right. She would try not to think about it now. Gently, she began playing with Ron's hair again.
An hour later the food trolley came by, and, of course, it had both boys up in a split second. Hermione rolled her eyes. How usual. But as they spent the next half hour going through all their purchases, Hermione felt herself returning back to normal after her little evening episode.
"You know, Hermione," Ron said slyly as she sat in his lap, "I never got my New Year's kiss yesterday."
She barely stopped to think of whom she did have it with as he began leaning in towards her lips. But when they did connect, she couldn't help compare how dull this was to her one with Sirius, even though Ron was forcing his tongue in her mouth.
"Ron, stop," she mumbled, pulling away. "You know I hate it when you do that."
"Please," he scoffed, "you love it. I bet Ginny loves it when Harry kisses her like that."
In reply, Ginny threw her copy of the Quibbler at him.
Ron ignored her, and instead slipped his arm around Hermione's waist. "Fine," he whispered. "We'll do it your way." This time his kiss was chaste.
They all fooled around for a while, and Hermione finally had enough sense to stop before things got out of hand. Harry and Ginny were at least somewhat reasonable, but Ron was on sugar high. Pigwidgeon was already zooming around the compartment, and Crookshanks had thrown up several hairballs in frustration of not catching him.
"Ron," she said loudly. "Stop it. Take your shirt, put it on, and calm down."
He was laughing hysterically at something in the Quibbler, and Harry and Ginny were laughing either with him, or at him.
"Ron," Hermione said warningly. "Put your shirt back on."
"You know, Hermione, you don't have to be such a party pooper," a voice said saucily from the door.
Hermione spun around. "Lavender," she said coolly. They hadn't been on best terms ever since Ron had dated her and then broken up with her for Hermione. "How was your Christmas?"
"Fine, thanks. Hi, Ron," she said, turning from Hermione. "How was your Christmas?"
The laughter had stopped immediately as Lavender stepped through the door, and now he was blushing furiously. "Good," he finally managed, looking extremely embarrassed.
"You know, it's a pity," she continued, stepping closer to him, "that boys such as yourself aren't allowed to always walk around with their shirts off at Hogwarts." She smiled at his flustered appearance.
"I think that's a good thing," Ginny said sharply, "because then girls such as yourself wouldn't really be able to concentrate on anything except those boys, right?"
"Exactly," Lavender said with a wink at Ron. "I'll see you later." And she flounced out of the compartment.
Ron was still blushing, but immediately as the door closed again, he rounded on his sister. "Ginny! What the bloody hell was that for?"
"You have a girlfriend!" Ginny exclaimed. "Do you not even have the decency not to flirt with other girls right in front of Hermione?"
"I wasn't flirting! I was talking!" Ron yelled back, and then turned to Hermione. "You don't have a problem with it. Tell her she's crazy!"
"Mate, calm down," Harry said quietly from behind him, seeing Hermione sink down into her seat and look away in humiliation. "We all know you love Hermione and you'd never do anything to hurt her."
"Yeah," Ron said defiantly, and sat down.
Ginny snorted.
The rest of the train ride passed in almost complete silence, and Hermione did her best to act as though nothing was wrong. But that night, when she walked up to her dormitory and climbed into bed, she cast a Silencing Charm over the curtains of her four-poster so that the others wouldn't hear her cry.
Because seeing Ron do something so minor—just exchange a few coy words with another girl—made her feel so low and shamed, she felt even worse to think how heartbroken Ron would be if he discovered what happened with Sirius. She was just so confused, and no matter how many times she turned it over in her head, the result came to the same unanswered question: If she loved Ron, why did she long so much to feel Sirius's lips on hers once more?
Author's Note: Done. Wow, that was longer than I expected. I'm sorry that I got this out a day later than I thought, my friends thought they'd whisk me away for awhile until I cheered up. (But at least SH kissed! ; P)
Anyway. Let me know what you think so far, so PLEASE REVIEW!
Cheers : )
i wanna dance with you in the rain.
