A/N: Warning for a bit of heavy stuff in this chapter- including mention of infant loss.

Just For Tonight

[ He looked at her for a long moment, and she realised how guarded he'd really been this afternoon, "You're right." he said softly, "But it's either that, or I fall apart so…"]

They didn't talk for the rest of the evening, he returned from the bathroom in the same jeans as before but a clean black t-shirt had replaced the other one. She listened to him wandering around in the sitting room as she made them some dinner. She thought briefly that she should show him how the television worked, but at four glasses of wine in, she found she didn't really care about keeping him entertained anymore. She left him a plate of chicken salad on the dining table and collected her book. She went outside into the evening air to eat alone. He didn't bother her. He was reading too, some spy novel that he'd found on the sitting room bookshelf.

The evening sky was darkening, but the temperature wasn't dropping. Thick, threatening clouds were rolling in and she wondered if there would be rain during the night. It was the bugs that drove her back inside, nipping at her ankles, darting across the pages of her book in her wand light.

With a large glass of water to fend off the headache that was already starting at her temples, Hermione sat down at the table. Sirius's plate was gone and the wizard was still reading his book, long legs hanging off the sofa. She pulled some parchment toward herself and started a letter to Rose first. She reminded her that the papers changed nothing and she was still loved, asking how the summer was going, and if Hugo was being good. Then she wrote one to Hugo along the same lines, but ended with a request for photos of their holiday. Hugo had a muggle camera from Arthur, and the two of them liked to develop all his photos together. Hermione loved that her children had so many special people in their lives.

Hermione went to bed that night with a headache that the water hadn't been able to combat; too much red wine after all. She also had an unsettled nagging worry hovering in her chest. Wasn't wine meant to make her less worried? She thought momentarily of Sirius and his alternative coping mechanism theory. He probably had a point. Drinking away her problems wasn't wise. But she wasn't going to start sleeping around, that wouldn't do her any good either. It would just give the papers more ammunition.

Maybe she just needed to drink white wine instead. Less of a headache there.

She thought of her children, were the letters enough? She would send them in the morning. Her owl would arrive with her daily correspondence and she could send them back with her. She knew her kids would be okay, as much as it made her feel surplus to requirements.

Ron and Padma were happy together, ridiculously so. Padma had no children of her own and really seemed to enjoy Rose and Hugo when she spent time there. Hermione was happy that her children had yet another person to love them. And Padma was nice. Hermione had come to the conclusion over the last few years that being nice wasn't something she herself was particularly good at.

Hermione lay in the dark wondering if she'd ever have an easy relationship with her daughter. She was so proud of Rose, clever like Hermione was, but so much more socially aware. She'd never be guilty of alienating her children when the time came. Hermione just didn't seem able to help herself, she knew that she picked at Rose too much, she tried so hard to be supportive, but she just wanted to make sure she would succeed. Rose would be able to do whatever she wanted in life because of who her parents were, but Hermione wanted her to appreciate hard work. She needed to understand that everyone's achievements depended on their wits and determination, not just their last name.

Hermione's uneasy observations on her own motherhood were interrupted by a soft knock on her door not long after she turned out the light. When Sirius spoke, it was in a very different voice to the brazen flirty one she'd encountered so far. He sounded nervous, quiet.

"Hermione, can I come in?" he asked tentatively. She was reminded again of Teddy, a bit cocky and brash when challenged, but still so young under it all. Sirius was too young to be living the life he was. At least Teddy only had normal problems.

"Yes,'' she said, flicking her light back on and sitting up in bed. He came inside, pausing just inside the door. She'd found him a pair of pyjama bottoms in the locked wardrobe in her room, they belonged to Bill, he and Fleur both like to holiday here. Conveniently, locked wardrobes didn't matter when you had a wand. It had gotten so muggy that Hermione wasn't altogether surprised that Sirius wasn't wearing a t-shirt again.

She was almost getting used to the sight of his bare torso, after healing him and the incident after showering that afternoon, but she was still uncomfortable with how easily her eyes were drawn there. Her eyes followed the dark trail of hair below his belly button and she had to force herself to look away.

"Are you alright?" she asked as he came a bit further into the room. Silly question, she thought, He clearly wasn't alright. His jaw was tight, his eyes low, his fingers twitching at his sides, edgy, self-conscious. He perched on the bottom corner of her bed, still silent. He shook his head mutely and she waited, he would say something eventually she supposed.

She was right, after a few more minutes of silence, his mouth opening a couple of times but no sound came out. He seemed unable to find the right words, but he finally said, "I've fucked up, haven't I?"

"A little bit," she agreed, glad to see that he was actually taking the whole situation seriously. "But we'll put it right. You'll be back with your friends before you know it."

"No I won't," he let out a shaky breath and looked at her then; the defeated expression he wore cut straight to her heart, causing a helpless kind of sympathy to start growing inside her. "It's so bad, Hermione, you have no idea."

"I have a reasonable idea," she said kindly. "James is in hiding?"

He nodded. "And Moony, that's Remus, he's off doing god knows what, and Pete's just a pain in the arse, never around and then always needs catching up on what's been going on." He swallowed, his voice hollow. "Everyone keeps dying."

He looked at her again, sad and alone, the darkness she'd seen in his eyes that afternoon was back in full force, there was too much on this young man's shoulders.

"Two days before I left, the Prewetts were killed. They went down fighting. We were lucky to get away, no one has seen Dearborn for weeks, don't know if he's dead or defected, and," he drew a shaky breath. "My g-girl," his voice cracked, but he pushed on. "Marlene. Voldemort got her, three months ago, I wasn't even there, I – we'd had a fight,"

Hermione leaned forward to put her hand on his shoulder. His skin was so hot, almost feverish, she wondered if he just ran that warm, or if the clear anxiety he was feeling was making him overheat.

"Sirius, I'm so sorry," Hermione said honestly.

Marlene, she thought, Marlene McKinnon perhaps? It did seem likely. It wasn't a particularly common first name and she was killed during the year before Voldemort fell. Hermione had never known that Sirius had been in a relationship with someone who had been killed. Her heart broke for him. She knew all too well how it felt to lose people to Voldemort after all.

Then in a voice so quiet she could barely hear him, he whispered, "She was pregnant."

It was like he was confessing something dreadful, shameful, but Hermione just saw the tragedy of it all. How had they never known this? Sirius Black's child would have been her age, or close to it. Probably in Ginny's year at school, she swallowed, not sure why this of all things made her so upset.

"That's why we fought," he continued, a dark loathing infusing his quiet voice. "I'm a terrible fucking person. I told her we shouldn't keep it, that was the last thing I ever said to her." He was speaking to his knees, his long fingers wound in his hair, supporting his head. "But it's too dangerous to bring kids into the world. I couldn't let her be so vulnerable. She'd have to hide like Alice and Lily, I needed her with me, I couldn't let her…"

Hermione got the impression that Sirius hadn't said this out loud before. It was pouring out of him unchecked, his hand shook as he dashed at his eyes. "That's why I went, you know, with the time turner. I saw Hagrid at the funeral, he told me and James how he wished he'd flattened Voldemort when he had the chance. Did you know he went to Hogwarts?"

Hermione nodded, "Yes, I know more about him than maybe anyone." Except Harry, she thought, but she wasn't going to tell Sirius that.

"Well, we figured out when he was at school, and James went and got his dad's stuff. I didn't know the time turner went forward though. Neither did James. I told you I was running from the Death Eaters, and that's true, but we'd always planned I'd go, so when I realised they were going to catch me… I decided it was time."

"And then they hit you and fell out of the sky right in front of me?"

Sirius nodded, "Fate or just dumb luck, you reckon?" He attempted a watery smile, "Sorry to come in here," he continued. "I've been – well I've been kind of a wreck these last months. I'm sorry for all the joking around, I know it's serious."

"I know you do," Hermione said. "You talked about alternative methods of coping?" His sad eyes glinted just for a second as he caught her meaning and she shook her head with a small smirk at his audacity, even when so desperately sad. "I just mean that your attitude is a pretty big part of your own coping method."

He looked at her for a long moment, and she realised how guarded he'd really been this afternoon. "You're right," he said softly, "but it's either that or I fall apart so…"

"I'll just have to put up with the jokes," Hermione said, smiling at him again. "But, just remember, no one that cares about you will mind if you fall apart. It's actually fine to be upset, to miss people, to be angry. Holding it all in isn't healthy."

"Neither is drinking a whole bottle of wine," he said, but he didn't sound snarky or teasing, he was just pointing out that she was no saint when it came to emotional awareness either.

"I know," she said. "Promise you won't tell The Prophet?"

"Promise," he chuckled weakly. "Can I smoke out there?" he asked, tilting his head towards the patio that led off her bedroom.

"Sure," she said and unlocked the door for him. He went out of her room and back to his own but returned quickly, crushed cigarette packet in hand.

She watched him once again as he smoked in the dark. He was looking out into the garden and the yellow light from her lamp only just reached him, casting the muscles of his back into sharper relief. She could see the bruises now developing around his left shoulder; the bone was back in place, but must still ache. There were quite a few scars too, she noticed. Had he really lived such a rough life? She was beginning to realise how much she hadn't actually known about Sirius or his early life.

He flicked his cigarette away, a flash of bright orange in a wide glowing arc across the pitch dark garden. He seemed much more collected as he came back inside.

"I find it hard to be alone," he said as he sat on the bed again. "I'm sorry for invading your space."

"I'm alone all the time," Hermione said, disarmed by his honest admission. "I live alone, I work at such a high level that I don't really have work friends, my husband left me because I work too hard, and expect too much." She shook her head sadly. "Even my own children are scared of disappointing me. I'm a dragon."

"That seems a bit harsh," Sirius disagreed. "You've just listened to me pour my heart out, not very dragonish."

"Thanks," she said, feeling a bit foolish. "I don't really know what happened, I used to be… happier."

"I can't imagine being Head of Law Enforcement is a pleasant job," Sirius said with a grimace. "Like, rewarding I suppose, but it can't be much fun."

"You're right there," she agreed, and he was, that was exactly how she felt about it.

He watched her quietly a moment before he grinned, a proper one this time, teeth showing again, as he said, "maybe you need a holiday?"

"Well you see, I was trying that," she started, releasing that she was going to laugh despite everything, "but then someone decided to try and save the world."

He laughed too. "Sorry."

"Don't be," Hermione said. "I've thought about it myself you know, or I did, after the war, before my daughter was born, I used to imagine how I could change things. I kept wondering if I could make a time turner that would take me back to get rid of Voldemort. Never did anything about it though."

"Too much to lose now, right?" Sirius suggested.

"I know it seems weird when I've just been complaining about my life," Hermione shrugged feeling a little embarrassed.

"Nah," Sirius said. "I get it. Better the devil you know."

"Something like that," she agreed.

"I don't think I would have gone if Marls hadn't been –" he swallowed again. "Well, I wouldn't have been able to leave her anyway, she held me together. I've been … cracking up a bit since that night."

"Well, I don't blame you, and also," she hesitated, unsure if she wanted to share her thoughts with him. "About not wanting a child. Sirius, you're so young, not wanting a baby at twenty-one is perfectly normal. I was twenty-five when I got pregnant with Rose and I wasn't happy about it at all. I was so worried it would ruin my career. It took me months to come to terms with it."

Sirius gave her a funny look, his eyebrows tented in confusion. "I thought all girls wanted babies?"

"Definitely not," Hermione said firmly, amused by this old-fashioned idea. He really did come from a different time. She lay down again, deciding it was probably time to get some sleep. It was nearly two am. "But, I wouldn't be without her now, or my boy, Hugo. He's hilarious. Absolutely the life of the party."

"How old is he?" Sirius asked. Hermione wondered briefly if this was more information gathering, but somehow she didn't think so, he wasn't looking at her, instead he was fiddling with his borrowed box of matches, pushing the little tray in and out. He just wanted company it seemed.

"Eleven," Hermione said. "He's starting Hogwarts in September. They are having a great summer at their grandparents' place. They have a lot of cousins. It's a wonderful life for them there."

"Don't they ever live with you?" he asked, and normally Hermione would feel quite defensive about this, because she knew she didn't get to spend enough time with them, but for some reason it didn't bother her when he asked.

"Not really these days. I see them every Sunday during the holidays but they live with their dad, in the house we bought when we got married. I live close to work now. His girlfriend is there more often than not. I just work so much, it's not fair on them."

"That sounds very hard on you too." Sirius had a bit of a knack for saying the right thing when he wanted to, it turned out. Hermione felt like he really did understand.

"It is," Hermione said. She closed her eyes; thinking of her children made the loneliness seem worse somehow. Then the bed moved as he shifted his weight, and she thought he was leaving.

She didn't expect the sudden pang of disappointment that seeped through her at the idea of his departure. More surprising however, was the wash of palpable relief she felt as his hand crept into hers. Warm and rough edged, sliding beneath her relaxed hand where it lay on the pillow slip beside her face, she opened her eyes to see his face on the pillow next to her one.

His eyes were closed. "Just for tonight," he murmured.

The comfort Hermione drew from waking up next to a warm body should have concerned her much more than it did. It was still pitch dark outside – definitely not time to get up, she told herself as she closed her eyes again. She and Sirius weren't holding hands any more, that little touch was much more innocent than what had happened as they slept. Now there was a heavy arm over her waist and the regular warm exhale of Sirius's breath hitting the back of her neck. She lay there, still, not wanting to disturb the moment, because if she didn't turn and look at him she didn't have to acknowledge that it shouldn't be happening.

She felt a bit lighter after their conversation last night. She hadn't really admitted how hard the separation had been on her to anyone before. But having actually said it out loud, it seemed to lessen the load. She wondered if he'd feel the same. The Sirius she'd known had never mentioned Marlene, let alone that he'd lost a child before he'd even had a chance to accept the idea. She wondered if Remus had known, or James. Or if he'd just held it inside him for the rest of his life.

It was this tragic thought that stayed with her as she drifted back off to sleep.

A/N: I have a massive assignment due on tues, which I've been ignoring, so it won't be a double update this weekend, sorry!

Thanks for all the reviews last chapter, it really does make writing more fun when you know people are enjoying it- nothing worse than the imposter syndrome that comes with 1000 chapter views and dead silence on the review front. Haha, we do this for fun right? xx