In the far corner of the kitchen, a quiet, melancholy Hermione leaned against the counter, sipping her wine. Her eyes scanned the entire room, as if searching for a secret trap door she could escape to. After exhausting every dark nook and cranny of that old kitchen, she tipped back the contents of her glass, finishing the last few drops. Setting her glass down and debating whether she should refill it, she saw Harry and Ron coming her way through the little crowd.
"How are you doing? Holding up?" Harry asked, reaching over and grabbing the wine bottle to refill her glass.
She just smiled and nodded. The idea that the two of them were rather concerned for her, made her feel warm. They always made her feel warm. Even after the poor attempt at a romantic relationship with Ron proved their friendship was stronger through tough times, and this was, indeed, a tough time.
The room filled with a gigantic deep bark of a laugh, erupting from Sirius who was telling a story to Remus and Shaklebot.
"I can see he's pretty torn up," Hermione chided, hiding her eyes behind her newly filled glass.
"He is. He's not very happy, actually. He's just acting like this to put up a front. Everyone knows it." Harry added, trying to convince her otherwise.
"Probably drink himself to death, during the time we're married. Great, I'm forced into a loveless marriage, sworn to be celibate only to result in becoming a widow." She sighed, practically growling.
The three shared a small laugh, smiling to one another, trying to make things feel normal again.
"You know, during the ceremony tonight, I swear I could hear women crying," Ron added, looking over at Sirius as if trying to pick up on some of his skills.
"Rather sad, actually." Harry added, "They were giving you really dirty looks as you two walked out of the Ministry together."
"Thanks, Harry. That makes me feel loads better!" she smiled, flashing him a deep grin.
No matter how bad things got, she knew that her dearest friends would help her see a lighter side of any situation.
A week into their marriage, Sirius and Hermione moved into a spacious three bedroom flat in Earl's Court. Sirius took the larger room, making it appear as the one they shared. Though Sirius was the sole resident of the room, they added a feminine looking dresser to make it appear that Hermione shared the room with him. She left some of her personal things in there and used the first guest room as her own. She wasn't able to put personal things up on the walls, other than standard décor; for it would give it away that she spent her time in there, more than the master bedroom. So, Hermione was satisfied with leaving her entire library in there, her night clothes and a few extra pairs of shoes.
Her main closet was going to have to be the second one in Sirius's room. If they were going to mask as a married couple, then most, if not all of Hermione's things were going to have to remain in that room, giving her complete permission to enter it whenever she needed. Respecting his privacy, she told him that she wouldn't enter the bedroom if the door was closed.
The week had passed and the two lived like roommates that barely talked. They seemed to not mind sharing the chores, but for the most part they avoided each other like the plague and really only talked whenever they went back to Grimmauld Place. Hermione would apparate there and Sirius usually rode his motorcycle. When it was time for them to leave, Sirius usually stayed behind, crashing at Grimmauld Place and or meeting a mate for a drink; mostly it was Harry he'd meet.
On a Wednesday night, Hermione received an owl informing them of their first inspection. Just as warned, the Ministry was assigning them an appointment for that Saturday, to meet them at their home to conduct an interview and inspect the flat. After that, they were good for another month.
Hermione offered the delivery owl a treat and folded the letter back in her hands. She padded down the hall in bare feet down to Sirius's bedroom to inform him of the letter. She saw that his door was open and peeked into his room. With a light on by his bedside, he was laying on top of the bedspread wearing a pair of linen pajama pants and no shirt. Her eyes immediately fell onto his chest, looking over the tattoos that he displayed and followed down his lean form where the pants sat low on his hips. His arms were bent, holding up the book he was reading and he didn't even see her.
She quietly cleared her throat and said, "Hey,"
He lowered his book down and gave her a content grin, as if he was just indifferent to her, but still trying to be well mannered. They never had a good history of getting along and it really felt like the tension was a little thick, living in such close proximity together.
But, regardless, he answered back, "Hey."
She lowered her eyes and stepped further into the room, walking around the side of the bed, "We got an owl tonight. It makes our appointment for Saturday." she handed him the letter before turning away, "I'll work on trying to make the living room look more lived in."
Sirius looked back at her leaving his room and added, "And I'll work on it in here, making it look like we shag like those rabbits,"
She giggled and glanced back at him, now with a huge grin on his lips, catching her off guard, "Good night, Sirius," she laughed and offered him a wave.
Sirius watched her leave and sighed to himself. This was going to be one hell of a challenge; especially if she kept walking around in her little yoga shorts barefoot. The bare feet was always a weakness for him, as it just screamed innocence.
Saturday had come and Hermione paced the living room about forty times, shaking out her hands as they cramped up on her. Sirius finally emerged from the bedroom, wearing worn out jeans and a buttoned up shirt with the top three buttons undone. His cuffs were loose and he rolled them half way up his forearm.
Sirius ran a hand through his hair, fixing it the way he liked, and saw Hermione in her neurotic state, "Hermione, stop," he said, rushing to her and putting both of his hands on her upper arms, "Calm down, love."
Her eyes got big as he broke up her grueling cycle, secretly pleased he gave enough of a damn about it for her not to give it away so early in the game.
"We're going to be fine. Don't worry so much."
"I can't help it. I'm just worried that they're going to see right through us." She whispered closely to him, in case the walls had ears.
"Shhh, they won't. Now, come here, they'll be here any minute." And with minimal effort, he pulled her into a hug, wrapping his strong arms around her.
Hermione took a calming deep breath and tried to relax. She felt his hands gently stroke her back and she had to admit he had a way of making her feel better. Just as she was breathing in the exotic scent of his cologne and committing it to memory, she heard a crisp "pop" near them and they broke apart; Sirius leaving a hand on her back.
The same man that had given them their marriage license now stood before them in the middle of their living room, straightening his coat and taking out his pen.
"Hello, Mr. Shortbook. It's nice to see you, again." Hermione feigned sweet, extending her hand out to the short balding Ministry representative.
"Mrs. Black, Mr. Black." He emphasized the "Mr." part loud enough for Sirius to hear it. "Shall we begin?"
Sirius ushered Hermione to the couch, allowing her to sit down first and with him sitting right behind her. Seeing that her shoulders were, again, quite tense, he casually draped an arm around the back of the couch, allowing a few fingers to lightly graze her shoulder. Hermione glanced back at him quickly, flashing him a small smile, appreciating his concern. Though, he may only have been acting for the Ministry Rep, it seemed to do her quite a bit of good to know that he was directly behind her.
The short man cleared his throat and started to scribble things down as he watched Hermione fidget with her skirt, "Nervous, are we?"
Before she could answer, Sirius chimed in, "She is a little. She's absolutely neurotic about housecleaning and I know that she's thinking about something she didn't get to. Isn't that right, love?"
Hermione nodded and played along, "Yes, I just remembered that I forgot to dust off that bookshelf." And to add to the theatrics, she pointed to the one on the far wall across from them.
Mr. Shortbook started to ask them some questions, carefully studying them and their answers. He watched how often Hermione would glance back at him, receiving a gentle pat on the arm or leg for support. The two seemed to be convincing enough, but there was still something not right about their situation. Finally, as the questions ended, Mr. Shortbook excused himself to start inspecting the flat. He left the two sitting there to whisper to each other, suspecting that Mr. Shortbook was probably going through their most intimate possessions.
After about ten minutes, Sirius looked back down the hallway to see if he could see the short balding man walking back into the living room, but he seemed to still be preoccupied. Sirius furrowed his brow, not quite sure what was taking so long when he started to tap Hermione's wrist.
He kept looking back towards the bedrooms when he whispered, "You don't have anything that vibrates in your room do you?"
Hermione was silent for a few minutes, not sure what he was getting at….then it hit her, "SIRIUS BLACK? How dare you ask me that question!" she yelled in a stage whisper.
"I was only asking. He's taking forever in the guest room, your room! Just made me wonder, that's all." He added, still looking behind him to see if Mr. Shortbook was coming back in.
"Well, well…well, it's none of your business if I did!" she ferociously whispered, again.
He snapped his head back so fast it might have flipped off, "It most certainly is my business to know. What if he finds that thing in there and starts doubting my ability!"
"Your ability? I'm risking the idea of being discovered and then being pawned off to a Death Eater! I don't think the matter of your skills and ability is really that important right now!"
"It is so! It's only going to be convincing if I can satisfy my own wife!"
"That's not the only thing we're trying to prove!" she huffed back at him, ready to slap that look of concern right off his handsome chiseled face. "Besides, I don't have one of those things anyway!"
"Well, everything looks in order." Mr. Shortbook said, entering the room and finishing up the last of his notes into a small book.
Immediately, Sirius's hand returned to Hermione's shoulder as if it had just casually fallen off. Mr. Shortbook started his good-byes and asked a few last questions before apparating out of their living room.
Sirius and Hermione stood up, eagerly awaiting his departure.
Mr. Shortbook flipped a few more pages into his book and calmly asked, "And how goes the copulation?"
"The what?" Sirius asked, taken aback by the form of the key question.
Hermione quickly recovered and added, "Fine. We're just fine." She cleared her throat, waiting for Sirius to get the picture.
The crude scientific word had rendered Sirius speechless and immediately shook his head to regain his thoughts. He stepped closer to Hermione and wrapped his hands around her tiny waist. "Yes, we're brilliant, actually." Sirius started to nuzzle Hermione's ear with his nose, "We're just like-"
"Rabbits, yes, I know, Mr. Black." The man said, leaving a disgusted taste on his face and fixing his tie. He hadn't been there for nearly twenty minutes and already Sirius was making him feel uncomfortable.
Hermione had completely stilled, once she felt the sensual touching Sirius had started, and realized that she wasn't pretending her reaction. As he started to whisper things into her ear, trying to make it seem more convincing to Mr. Shortbook, Hermione found that her tolerance for it wasn't very strong. She actually found herself beginning to believe his gentle seduction and, for a moment, lost herself in him. His course cheek swept past her neck and her eyes started to grow heavy with his spell. She felt herself leaning back into his embrace, allowing a hand to reach up and gently squeeze his arm that was protectively wrapped around her.
The short balding man cleared his throat and excused himself so as not to overstay his welcome. Within a few seconds, he was gone with a "pop" and the two were left to themselves.
Once the man was gone, Sirius quickly dropped the act, releasing a sigh of relief. The heavy sound from his throat was enough to shake Hermione out of her trance and turned around to face him.
She stared at him for a few minutes, watching the way he casually fixed his hair in the mirror and flattened his shirt. Like a true player, he had already forgotten what he had done and saw it as nothing but a chore.
A few heavy huffed moments went by, before she finally yelled at him, "What the hell was that?"
"What was what?" he asked, running his hands though his thick silky hair, thankful it was over.
"That! What you were just doing to me. You had no right to do that!"
He stopped his primping and turned around to face her, astonished that she was acting so brash. He was doing a job. He was protecting her. He felt the need to push the envelope further, so he did. Mr. Shortbook seeing any displays of affection wouldn't have hurt anything, it would have helped it.
"No right?" he raised his voice, laughing almost, "Hermione, I was selling it to him!"
She shook her head, furious with him. She was not just another girl that was going to always see the charmer, she was real. "No, you weren't! You were coming onto me, just then. That was real."
"No, it wasn't." he chuckled, not believing they were actually challenging this. "That meant nothing to me, just then. Don't worry. You're precious virtue is still safe while I'm around," he mocked, shaking his head as he walked past her.
Her breath escaped her with the very tone of his voice and the way he said it to her. Nothing he had just done meant anything, and it was so easy for him to do. He just regarded her as prop in this show and he was the player. Someone like her would never be enough to satisfy Sirius Black, she knew that. But, it wasn't fair for him to use her like she was just an object. True, he was doing her a huge favor, but it gave no right to him to just play with her like that.
"Besides," he breathed by her ear, returning to his position directly behind her. She tensed up and spun around to meet his dark, cruel eyes, "You'll know when I'm trying to seduce you."
There was no humor in his statement and it certainly wasn't intended to be funny. She just locked eyes with him and stared him down for what seemed liked hours and she just whispered, "I know better than to give into your cheap charm, Sirius Black. You're not all that you think you are."
He lifted a corner of his mouth to show a mean satisfied smirk, "Just as well for you to think that, then." He ran his eyes over her, "You're not my type, anyway."
The tension in the room was so thick, if she could hex him, she would have. But, the powers of the Ministry had forbidden married couples to ever hex one another until divorce proceedings were finalized. After that, it was free game. For now, Hermione had to take it, take his cruel streak, accept this way of life, or living hell. They were both bonded to each other and it was already proving to be an ill start to the arrangement.
Hermione, who was about to explode, pushed past him
She slammed her bedroom door behind her and turned fast to press her back against the hard surface. Feeling weak and empty, like the air had left her lungs, she slid down the door. She wished there had been another way to deal with this new law, she wished that it wasn't Sirius she was committed to, she wished she slapped his face so hard it would have left a red mark for three weeks.
She buried her head in her knees as they pressed up against her chest, beginning to lightly sob. She may not have had the right to yell at him the way she did, but he deserved it. As their argument replayed in her head, she started to get angrier and angrier. It wasn't entirely him she was mad at, though he made it so easy; it was really herself she was yelling at.
She mentally argued with herself, trying to see it another way, but it all concluded to the same thing. The way he held her, made her feel safe, the way he looked at her, made her feel confident, the way he talked to her, made her want to kill him. Regardless, it was inevitable. She now had something in common with the women that were crying at their ceremony. She, too, was starting to fall for Sirius Black's charms.