A/N: You know, it's hard to write when all I want to do is watch fanvids on YouTube. Particularly the "Severus Remus Sirius 'Sexy Naughty Bitchy'" over and over. I just keep giggling at 'bitchy' Sirius. Obviously there is something deeply, deeply wrong with me.

I am trying to work hard on the writing bit though because I am trying to update as often as possible. I appreciate all of the amazing feedback and all of the constructive criticism. Thanks for taking the time to let me know what you think. As several of you have mentioned particular stories, I will say that I haven't consciously tried to rewrite anyone else's story, I've tried to make this my own. I know there are a million time travel fics, and a million Pureblood!Hermione fics, and a million HermionexSirius fics, which is why I've tried very hard to make this story different. I suppose this is true of every author. I mean seriously, what if a publisher told Erich Maria Remarque, "Sorry, we've already published a ton of books about World War I, we don't need yours." (Not that I am, in any possible way trying to claim that this is the "All Quiet on the Western Front" of Harry Potter fanfiction. I'm not that crazy.)That's the incredible thing about literature. We can tell the same story a thousand times, and every time it's different. [Stuffs Lit Major exuberance back into its locked box.]

"Moony, can I talk to you?" Sirius asked quietly. They were alone in their dorm room, and Sirius was on his back staring at the canopy of his bed. Remus glanced up from his Charms homework and frowned slightly. Sirius seemed to be not quite himself, and hadn't been since the Hogsmeade visit. He sighed.

"Sure, Padfoot, what's on your mind?" Remus said mildly, betting himself that it had to do with a certain stag-animagus' twin sister.

"I think I…I think I really like Hermione," he muttered so quietly that only a werewolf could have heard him. Remus smirked to himself, but then he became very solemn.

"Do you think you really do like her? Or do you just want to shag her?" He asked baldly. He liked Hermione, and he wasn't about to let Sirius hurt her. Sirius sat up and glared at him.

"Don't talk about her like that," Sirius bit out between clenched teeth. Remus blinked.

"Okay, then, you really like her. You might want to stop sleeping with anything that's got a pulse. I doubt that's going to impress her," Remus said coolly. Sirius sighed and put his head in his hands.

"They come on to me," he muttered. "They follow me everywhere. Can't tell you how many broom closets I've been drug into. Hell, I can't tell you how many times I've been full on snogging someone only to realize it was a bloke. It just happens."

"Right, well, again, I can't see Hermione being impressed with that," Remus said flatly. "In fact, I can see her being sort of repulsed by you not caring who you're with. She seems the type of girl who wants to know that the man with her, wants to be with her, not just any warm body."

"But I do want to be with just her!" Sirius moaned, falling back onto the bed. Remus snorted.

"Yeah, and that would be why you ran screaming from the Abbot twins? I mean I saw you beating them back and begging them to stop pawing at you, but I didn't think you were for real," Remus said sardonically, one eyebrow quirked at his friend. Sirius blushed a deep, deep red.

"Er…well, yeah," Sirius muttered. He sighed heavily. "I figured it didn't matter, since there's no way in hell she'd ever even look at me."

"She looks at you all the time, Sirius," Remus said in confusion. Sirius rolled his eyes at his friend.

"No, Moony, I mean she'd never want to be with me, and even if she did, she's James' sister. He'll kill me!" Sirius groaned and started to bang his head against his bedpost. Remus put out a hand and stopped him.

"First of all, I think she might like you," Remus said softly. "Second of all, if you keep on as Sirius the Super Stud of Hogwarts—then yeah, he'll probably castrate you himself with a dull, rusty muggle knife."

"You're so not helping," Sirius said from under a pillow.

"However, if you stopped all that, and started treating her like you were attracted to her, you might be surprised," Remus said mildly.

"What do you mean? Of course I'm attracted to her! Who wouldn't be?" Sirius sat up and looked at Remus as though he were deranged.

"You've never treated her the way you treat everyone else. I think it hurts her feelings. She seems irritated when you flirt with everyone, but she always looks a bit put out when you slide right over her," Remus explained.

"I've never treated her the same because I have always liked Hermione," Sirius said quietly, a dull flush creeping up his neck. "This is all a moot point, isn't it? You think she might like me, but she might not."

"Maybe, but I still think you should sort of rework your image," Remus said darkly. "It will definitely save you from a bloody pounding from James."

"Right. Swearing off broom closets as of now," Sirius said firmly from his bed.

"And empty classrooms," Remus reminded him.

"Yeah, those too."

"And the Quidditch locker room."

"Yup."

"And empty hallways."

"Yes."

"And the bleachers at the Quidditch pitch."

"Okay, yeah, them too."

"And the-,"

"I get it, okay? I'm a huge slut! Happy now?" Sirius bellowed at Remus.

"Er, am I interrupting something?" Hermione stood uncertainly in the doorway, looking from Remus to Sirius whose face had just turned the most violent shade of red that she'd ever seen. "Obviously James isn't here. Could you tell him I was looking for him? Right, I'll just let myself out."

HP/HG/HP

No one had ever gone out of their way to avoid Hermione Potter before, and she found that she was conflicted—half the time she was hurt, and the other half she was pissed off. She had only heard the last bit, the part where Sirius was screaming so loudly that all of Gryffindor heard him. She didn't know what the actual conversation had been about, but obviously Remus had called Sirius on his…er…extra-curricular activities. He had apparently taken that conversation to heart because Sirius Black was a changed man. She no longer walked the halls fearing to find him pressing some random girl into the stone walls. She wasn't quite sure what to make of his new behavior, and found herself reserving judgment. The Sirius that Old Hermione had known had still been a randy dog.

Well, yes, he was…but…I think you've changed things.

Why on earth would my presence change things?

Er, right. Well, dear, I think he likes you.

Who?

Merlin's beard, woman! Sirius likes you.

That's ridiculous.

Is it?

Of course it is.

He looks at you like he wants lay you down on the Gryffindor table and treat you like an All-You-Can-Eat buffet.

A…A what? Sweet Circe! Is that…is that…OH…oh my. He wants to do that to me?

Mmm. We should be so lucky.

We?

Honey, if that happens, I so have a front row seat.

Hermione shook herself out of her reverie. She looked out the window and sighed. Severus still wasn't really speaking to her, and they were running out of time. The Christmas holiday would be here soon, and then he would—publicly at least—be lost to them. She was anxious because she needed Severus to be on the inside and able to work closely with Lucius, but on the other hand she wept at the idea of her friend, her blood-brother, being bound to everything that was evil and malignant.

"Hermione," Severus said quietly, and she turned to look at him. He looked pale, as though he hadn't slept well. She raised a brow at him and he sighed. "I'm sorry."

"He would never hurt me," Hermione said just as quietly, willing him to believe her. He nodded.

"I believe you, if you've Seen it," he muttered. She moved closer and put her arms around him.

"Severus, I swear to you that Remus Lupin will never hurt me," she said firmly. Severus relaxed in her arms and hugged her back fiercely.

"There's not much time left," he whispered. "I won't be able to watch over you, and Regulus will be alone."

"I will survive," Hermione said dryly pulling back to look at him. "You are not the only thing keeping me from the arms of death. Besides, I have Peverell blood in my line. We do not fear death, we embrace it as the next great adventure."

"No wonder the lot of you are in Gryffindor," Severus said sourly. "No sane house would have you."

"Charming as ever, Sev," Hermione said with a low, throaty chuckle.

"What's your master plan, my lioness?" Severus asked her seriously.

"We need somewhere to meet, neutral territory for me, and for you all. Soon, we'll be outside of Hogwarts, and we'll need somewhere to meet that's not the room of requirement. Lucius can't get in to meet us here anyway, we'll have to meet with him on holidays. You and Lucius will need to work inside, and Regulus will be our eyes inside the school. He'll have to be in charge of passing along promising potential assets to you," Hermione thought out loud, rambling slightly as she tried to order her thoughts. "Once you start to receive the…the you know whats…then we need to contact the Order. Lucius will be in charge of that phase. We'll probably have to work with the Order to destroy them. There are very few things that do so, and all of them are terribly dangerous."

"And once the…you know whats…are destroyed?" Severus asked quietly.

"He'll be mortal, and then we make sure that he gets to embrace the next great adventure," Hermione said with a smile that chilled Severus.

"So one of your major concerns would be a base of operations, yes?" Snape asked her. Hermione nodded.

"Yes. We need somewhere to meet regularly, or leave messages for each other, et cetera," Hermione said firmly, nibbling on her lower lip. "I wonder if we could use one of my dower properties."

"One of your dower properties?" Severus echoed, staring at Hermione with wide eyes. She nodded.

"Of course. I have four. One of them came to me from Mum's side of the family, one was bequeathed by a maiden aunt, one is from the Potter family, and one is from my Dad's mother," Hermione recited promptly. Severus blinked several times.

"Is there one that you think will work better than the others?" He asked curiously. She frowned as she thought, then her face cleared.

"Yes, actually. The maiden aunt left me a small chateau in France. When I'm seventeen, I'll have it hooked up to the floo network, and once we've all been there we'll be able to apparate in."

"Why that one?" Severus asked curiously.

"Well, it's out of country, so I think that makes it safer than a property that can be overseen by the Ministry. In addition, my family wouldn't show up, they would assume I'd be at one of the properties in Britain. Lastly, if everything goes pear-shaped, it will be a good place to hide out—again, because it's out of country," Hermione said honestly. Severus smirked.

"So, I gather that it's out of country," he murmured. She hit him on the arm.

"It is the major contributing factor that affects all the reasons I've listed, yes," Hermione said with a roll of her eyes. "We're going to make the most impenetrable fortress possible. It will be our safe haven."

"Very well," Severus said with a nod. "What else?"

"I want you to keep your eyes open, we need to consider other possible options. I would like to suggest…Rabastan LeStrange, but you'll need Regulus' help to turn him. He won't believe that you understand his position—you're not a pureblood," Hermione said cautiously. Severus quirked a brow at her.

"Has the Black madness come for you at last, Hermione? LeStrange? Rodolphus is you-know-who's right hand man. He practically worships him. He and his psychotic wife are the high priest and the high priestess of the Psychotic Bastard religion," Severus fumed at her. She clicked her tongue at him.

"Yes, Rodolphus is insane, but Rabastan is just a boy who is being forced to do what his family tells him to do. I think, once he sees what's really going on, he'll be just as repulsed and sickened as Lucius was, but he'll have no way out," Hermione said firmly. Severus nodded.

"You're going to have to pull Regulus in sooner than you'd planned, then," he muttered at her. She nodded.

"I know. I'd wanted to wait, but I don't' think we can afford to do that. Unfortunately, Severus, too many of them will hold your blood against you," Hermione said sadly. He shrugged.

"I know that," he said quietly. "It is why I strive to excel at everything. If I am the best, it is harder for them to say anything."

"I know," Hermione said softly, Old Hermione's memories crowding in at Snape's words. He laughed bitterly.

"Hermione Potter, forgive me, but you know nothing about what it is like for me," he said acerbically. Her eyes narrowed.

"I know more than you might think," she said coldly. Bitter amusement twitched his lips. She growled at him. "Meet with Lucius. Discuss the plan, report back to me when you're through."

"As my lady commands," he said dryly with a mocking little bow, and then he brushed her cheek with his lips and walked swiftly down the hall.

HP/HG/HP

The Daily Prophet arrived just as it always did, and Hermione paid the owl and snatched it up, she opened it and began reading as she did every morning. There was an op-ed piece by Edgar Bones, decrying the actions of You-know-who, and encouraging wizards and witches to stand together and defy his attempted reign of terror. Hermione started to hyperventilate, her breath coming in gasps, she turned and stared at Lily, her eyes wide and panicking. Lily stared at her in horror. Both women jumped up from the table and fled, Lily practically dragging Hermione with her, to get her to safety. They slid into an unused classroom and Lily was trying to hold the shaking Hermione in her arms when James burst into the classroom after her.

"Get out!" Lily shrieked at him, fearing making her voice harsh. "Get out, go away!"

"Lily, what the-," James began, but when he saw his sister's face he stopped, all the blood draining from his face. Her eyes were solid black, and she was shaking slightly, tears leaking down her cheeks.

"The Bones family has stepped too far onto the side of the Order," she was whispering, her lips moving almost against her will. "He will use them as an example, he will show no mercy, slaughtering every last man, woman, child…even the house elves will fall to him that night. The Order will learn too late to be of help. Oh god, the baby…," she moaned and shook her head, trying to block out what she was Seeing.

"Shh," Lily said, rocking her and stroking her hair. "We'll stop it. It'll never happen."

"Amelia, she's here," Hermione was whispering, "it's her older brother Edgar, it's his family. She's in Hufflepuff."

"Do you want to try and talk to her," Lily was asking her, still stroking her hair.

"I'm not sure, have to think about it…might be risky," she was murmuring back.

The whole world spun for a moment. Hermione was a Seer. For one second, he saw her in the flowing white garb of a Seer, her wild curls unbound, cascading down her back. The next, he saw her lifeless body with You-know-who standing over her laughing. He knew it wasn't a vision, it was his own fear. He couldn't protect her from this…this was huge. She would be hunted like a wild animal. He wouldn't rest until she was in his hands…and then she would seal her own fate. He knew his sister, her moral compass would never allow her to work for You-know-who. Never. She would die first. He didn't realize he was crying until Lily was awkwardly trying to pat him on the shoulder, while still trying to cradle Hermione to her. James took Hermione from Lily and held her in his arms. She'd passed out, exhausted after her vision. He held her to him and he sobbed like a child. Lily's hands were stroking his hair, rubbing his back in comforting circles, but he was only peripherally aware of it. His whole being was focused on his sister, his twin. She felt fragile, delicate, in his arms, and the fear for her safety gripped him tightly.

"James?" Lily whispered. He turned to her, his hazel eyes blazing.

"How long have you known?" he asked coolly. Lily shook her head.

"Since summer, but…no one could know. No one. Or she might be put at risk," Lily said quietly, avoiding his eyes. James watched his sister's face. It sounded like the sort of thing that Hermione would insist on. He frowned slightly. He wondered if Hermione had forced a compulsory oath on Lily—sometimes his twin could be positively Slytherin in nature, and he of all people knew that about her.

"She'll always be at risk," James muttered. "When he finds out there will be no place that she can hide."

"She doesn't want Peter to know, that's why she hasn't told you. She won't tell me why, she gets upset every time I ask her about it," Lily whispered. James' head turned sharply and he narrowed his eyes at her. Hermione had never liked Peter. Was it because of what she had Seen? He frowned down at his sister. "Will you keep her secret? The more people that know, the more danger she's in."

"For now," he said slowly.

HP/HG/HP

Contacting Lucius was a little harder than she had thought it would be because both of them needed to be careful. She had Severus contact him for her, and the two of them met, late at night, in the Shrieking Shack. He stood stiffly formal, his back perfectly straight, his beautiful face a coolly polite mask. Hermione sighed, and shifted from lioness to human. He frowned before he could stop himself.

"You look pale, and thin. Are you not sleeping or eating well?" He asked quietly. She shook her head.

"No. When I close my eyes I see James…," she trailed off and he nodded, once.

"What do you require of me?" He asked quietly. Hermione took a deep breath and looked up at him.

"The Bones family," she said quietly. "I have seen what he will do."

"He is not pleased," Lucius agreed, dipping his blond head toward her.

"How should we proceed, Lucius? I wish to warn them. Should I attempt to do it myself? If I do, I must reveal how I've come by the information. Should I ask you to go to Dumbledore with information? I worry that that might tip our hand too soon. I wanted to wait until we could go to him with horcruxes—with proof of what Tom Riddle has done. I am uncertain, and I find that I need your counsel," she concluded, pacing slightly with anxiety. Lucius watched her pace, and thought about the options available to them.

"Perhaps," he said slowly, thoughtfully. "You overheard students discussing it? You do not know who, you did not see them, but it frightened you enough to go to the headmaster?"

"That might work," she murmured. "He is a skilled Legilimens, and I have avoided him so far because of it."

"You do not trust Dumbledore?" Lucius asked her curiously. She shrugged.

"It is not that I do not trust him. Let us say instead that he has surpassing faith in his own plans and schemes, often to the detriment of those around him," Hermione said cautiously.

"And this is the man you want me to trust with the lives of our compatriots?" Lucius asked her flatly. She frowned.

"We will not trust him completely. We will be careful. You will be the only one he will see and know, and I trust in my ability to protect you. Okay?" Hermione glanced at him, and saw his posture loosen slightly.

"This is a dangerous game we play, my lioness," he muttered. Hermione sighed.

"I know it is. I'm sorry for it, Lucius, but they began the game, we seek merely to end it on our own terms." She smiled faintly at him. "Now tell me about your petition for Narcissa's fair hand. I assume everything is going smoothly."

"Yes, the petition proceeds. Her parents approve the match," he said quietly. He paused and looked away from her. "I believe that I am beginning to care for her."

"She will be utterly loyal to you and to your son," Hermione offered. "I think she will love you both very much."

"You have Seen this?" He asked thoughtfully. She shook her head.

"Not exactly," she murmured slowly. "I haven't Seen it in a vision, but I can say that it is the truth."

"Hermione," Lucius said quietly and she turned to him. "Please, take care of yourself. We need you."

"I will," she paused and looked briefly into his silvery-grey eyes. "Please, be safe."

HP/HG/HP

"Hey, Hermione," Sirius said quietly, leaning against the bookshelf she was perusing in the library. She turned to look at him and quirked a brow.

"Sirius," she said cautiously, wondering why he was suddenly coming to speak to her when he had been avoiding her as though she had some sort of highly contagious disease.

"So, about the other day," he said slowly, glancing around. She frowned at him.

"If by 'the other day' you mean two weeks ago, I know what you are trying to talk about," Hermione said coolly. Sirius flushed a little, and Hermione blinked. Sirius never looked nervous, or embarrassed.

"If you overheard something that, er, makes you hate me, I-I understand," he said softly, not looking at her. She frowned again, but in confusion.

"Sirius, the entire tower heard you scream at the top of your lungs," she said carefully. "I'm not sure what you're talking about."

"So…so you just heard the last part? Where I said I was a giant…um, yeah," Sirius looked hopeful, and Hermione nodded.

"That was all I heard," she said, confusion evident on her features. Sirius seemed to relax. He tossed his hair back and smiled at her with easy confidence. She watched him uncertainly. He didn't usually flash those sorts of smiles at her. The flirty sorts of smiles. He moved closer to her until he was almost touching her.

"I don't want to be like that anymore," he confided. She nibbled on her lower lip.

"Like what?" She asked him curiously. He lifted a shoulder, and flushed again.

"A…a person who doesn't care who they're with as long as it's a willing body," he said finally, the dull flush creeping up his neck. Hermione blushed as well. She didn't even want to think about that…about him with other girls.

"Why?" She managed to ask. He blinked at her.

"What?"

"Why don't you want to be like that anymore? What's changed?" She clarified.

"Remus helped me to see that what I was doing was going to ruin any chance I might ever have with the girl that I like," he said so softly that she almost didn't hear him. Her heart clenched a little in her chest. This was all very un-Sirius. For him to talk like this…he must really like this girl…whoever she was. Hermione found herself not liking her—this unknown girl.

"Who is she?" Hermione found herself asking, and then wishing she could take back the question. He suddenly looked shy, and uncertain, and Hermione found herself disliking this girl even more. "Never mind, you don't have to tell me if you don't want to. I'm sorry for being so nosy."

"No, I don't think you're nosy," he said softly, watching her with veiled eyes. She tilted her head to the side and waited. He looked over her shoulder and seemed to be considering something. Then he looked into her eyes, and she could feel herself growing warm. He was burning her with his eyes again. She could feel the heat, and it made her breath catch in her throat and her heart beat somewhat erratically. "It's you."

"I'm sorry, what?" She asked in surprise.

"It's you. I like you," he muttered, his cheeks flushing. Her eyes widened.

"But…but you can't," she said, completely shocked. "You never flirt with me, never. You've never asked me out. You've never even hinted…"

Sirius had decided that the easy way to settle this was to show her how he felt. He pulled her into his arms and kissed her. He traced her lower lip with his tongue, and when she gasped, he slid his tongue in to stroke hers. He kept one arm wrapped securely around her waist so that she couldn't run away from him, and the other hand slid up her neck to cup her head. He moved so that she was pressed against the bookcase, and she could feel the shelves digging into her back, but then he started nibbling on her lower lip and she didn't care anymore. His knee was pressing against her, and her legs parted so that his thigh was pressed tightly against her. He moved slightly, and that thigh rubbed against her, and she moaned into his mouth. He pulled away and looked at her flushed face, swollen lips, and glassy eyes.

"It's you," he repeated softly, and kissed her lightly on the mouth. Her hands were clutching the front of his robes, and she let go and tried to smooth the fabric.

"So," she said carefully, looking up into his eyes, which were so dark they were almost black. He was watching her, and he looked slightly uncertain again. As though she would hit him and send him away. "Does this mean you're going to ask me to go with you to the Hogsmeade weekend?"

"If that's what you want," he said cautiously.

"I think it's the normal sort of thing," she murmured, straightening his tie.

"That's next weekend, right?" He asked her after a moment.

"I believe so," she agreed. He smiled at her, but it wasn't his normal cocky smile.

"Would you do me the honor of accompanying me to Hogsmeade next weekend?" He asked her softly. She smiled at him.

"I would love to," she said just as softly. Then he was swooping down and kissing her again. She slid her arms up and around his neck and pulled him closer to her. She pressed against him, and kissed him back. He put his face in her neck and groaned, a low, deep, throaty sound that made her entire body hum with anticipation. He put his forehead against hers and tried to breathe quietly.

"Hermione, I need to do this right, and that means that I have to go. Now. I'm sorry, I just…I need a shower," He said desperately. He kissed her on the cheek and fled from the library. Hermione stared after him for a moment, confused and frustrated.

Okay, I know you're in there, what the hell just happened? Did I do something wrong? Do I smell? Does he not like me? Circe's sandals…am I a bad kisser?

No! We are an excellent kisser, honey, trust me. He likes you, he's thrilled you like him back, he got a little carried away, and now he's a little…er…uncomfortable. He's going to go take a nice relaxing shower, and, um, take care of things.

Oh. Would that help me?

Yes, it would. However, as a girl, you'll probably need some privacy. I recommend using the room of requirement. Ask for a bathroom like the prefect's bathroom, and some candles and make a night of it.

That's sounds very relaxing.

It can be.

So, you're not going to tease me mercilessly until I figure out a way to silence you?

No. I'm being very, very good right now.

I don't even want to know.

Probably not.

HP/HG/HP

"Headmaster? There's something I need to talk to you about," Lily said uncertainly.

They had debated, and then flat out argued about the best possible course of action. Lily had been trying to learn occlumency from Hermione and from Severus, but it was slow going. It was much, much easier to learn if one was a small child—before one build natural barriers against the outside world. Lily had created walls to protect herself, but they were haphazard things that she had created unconsciously as the need arose. They were not conscious, carefully crafted walls with reinforcements and support such as Hermione or James or any pureblood with the brains for it had. Hermione felt guilty because she had had a momentary twinge of relief that her parents had been teaching occlumency to James and herself since they were three or four. However, they decided that it would be best if they could keep Hermione away from the headmaster's attention for now. Ultimately, Lily was their best choice. She was the most innocuous, the one most likely for Dumbledore to gloss over without trying to pry into her mind. Just in case he did, they were trying to prepare her.

War was all about contingencies, Hermione decided. They always planned what they should or ought to do when shit went down, never if. James was already trying to figure out what to do when her status as a Seer leaked out. He got that from her, she decided. She already had a plan, she just hadn't told anyone because—worst case scenario—they might not be alive to help her with it. When someone betrayed them, the fewer people that knew about her escape plan, the better. She tried to share everything else with her lieutenants: Lucius and Severus. Lily and James were fed the information they needed to have, but no more. She did that partially because she knew that James and Lily would not understand her need to plan for certain scenarios, but Lucius and Severus understood immediately.

"Of course, Miss Evans, how can I help you?" Dumbledore asked her kindly. Lily haltingly told him the tale that Hermione had made her memorize, and as far as she could tell, he believed her. She didn't even feel the strange press of mind to mind that came when Hermione or Severus tested her. "This is indeed grave news. I must send some letters. I'm sorry Miss Evans, if you could excuse me?"

"Of course, headmaster," Lily squeaked. She jumped up and fled his office gratefully.

Several days later, Hermione read the Daily Prophet with satisfaction. The Death Eaters had attempted to attack the Bones home, but found it completely deserted. She knew that the Order must have relocated them somewhere safe. She glanced toward the Hufflepuff table and saw Amelia Bones clutching the Daily Prophet, reading it avidly. Hermione saw Amelia Bones look up at the long table, toward Professor Dumbledore, and she saw him nod, once, at her and smile slightly. Amelia relaxed and began to eat her breakfast happily. Hermione shook her head slightly and sipped her pumpkin juice. At least the entire Bones family hadn't been slaughtered. That was important.

HP/HG/HP

She had experienced quite a few Hogsmeade weekends throughout her separate lives, but this one was unusual to say the least. Sirius walked next to her, but it was as though he was afraid to touch her. She realized after a moment that he didn't want to treat her like anyone else. He wanted her to realize that this was completely different. So he walked next to her. He followed her into Vortiger's Used Books, and she ended up having to drag him away from a stack of books, and toward the Three Broomsticks. She was laughing at him because he hadn't purchased anything at Zonko's or the Quidditch Supply Store, and had instead bought a book on the history of broomsticks. He scowled at her.

"I don't expect you to become a completely different man overnight, Sirius Black," she said with a low, throaty chuckle. "It is perfectly acceptable for you to buy dungbombs and use them."

"I have read in the past," he muttered crossly. "I enjoy reading."

"Hmm. Most likely scandalous muggle books about heroines with uncertain moral fiber," Hermione said with a knowing look in her eye.

"It was Catcher in the Rye," he said darkly. Hermione perked up.

"Oh, really? I can see you enjoying that," she said thoughtfully, her nose scrunched up. He blinked at her.

"I did. I mean, I didn't understand some of the muggle bits, but yeah, I enjoyed it. My mother didn't," he said flatly and seemed to close up slightly. Hermione took his arm impulsively.

"Well, it's not for everyone," she said airily and pulled him toward the Three Broomsticks. When they walked in, people glanced at them, and then looked away. It wasn't unusual to see Sirius and Hermione with one another, they often were because of James. The marauders were sitting at their own table, and Lily was sitting with a bunch of their mutual girlfriends. Hermione and Sirius frowned slightly.

"Now what?" He asked her. She thought for a moment.

"We either sit with our respective groups, or sit together. Are you ready for that?" Hermione asked him carefully. He frowned.

"What, do you think I'm ashamed of you or something?" He asked indignantly. She rolled her eyes.

"No, Sirius, that's not it at all, but if we sit at our own table, my brother is going to want to know why." She said calmly. He looked at her, and there was that uncertainty, that vulnerability there in his eyes again. She practically dragged him to a small table in a corner. "Fine, we sit together, and damn the consequences."

"Hermione?" James was standing in front of the table, looking between the two of them like he wasn't quite sure what was going on.

"Yes, Jamie?" Hermione asked him sweetly.

"Why are you and Sirius sitting here away from everyone else?" He was frowning, his brow scrunching with concentration.

"We thought it would be easier to talk this way," Hermione said with a shrug.

"Well, it makes look like you're on a date with him or something," James said with a slight frown. "Not that I don't love you, Padfoot, but you've sort of got a reputation."

"We are on a date," Hermione said brightly, smiling winningly at James who was still frowning as though he couldn't make out what she was saying.

"But," James began and Hermione held up her hand.

"I know you don't want to finish that thought because you'll never forgive yourself. Sirius has treated me with nothing but respect, and concern for my feelings. You will not say anything about what may or may not have happened in the past. It has no bearing on here and now. This is happening James Potter." Hermione spoke calmly and rationally. James tried to listen to her. He really did. He turned and frowned at Sirius.

"You should have said something to me," he said flatly. Sirius nodded.

"I know," he muttered.

"We're going to talk about this later," James promised darkly. Sirius nodded, completely unconcerned.

"I know," he said simply. Hermione beamed at her brother.

"Now, why don't you go buy Lily a hot chocolate? Ask Rosmerta to add a touch of mint, she likes that," Hermione said cheerfully. James stared at her for a moment and then went back to his table.

"He's not happy with me right now," Sirius said quietly, staring at his best friend and blood-brother.

"He'll forgive you eventually," Hermione said encouragingly. Sirius rolled his eyes at her.

"When?" He asked dryly. She shrugged.

"Oh, five years at the very most," she said bracingly and patted his hand. He stared at her. She grinned at him. "I was joking, Sirius. Breathe."

HP/HG/HP

The entire school noticed when Sirius walked into breakfast looking like he'd just had the crap beat out of him, which he had. They also noticed when white faced Hermione flew across the Great Hall and into his arms. Her hands fluttered near his face, and over his shoulders. No one could quite hear what they said, but the way Sirius' arm was wrapped around her waist, it was fairly obvious that they were a couple. She pulled him from the Great Hall to the annoyance of the entire student body, they'd wanted to see what would happen next.

Hermione dragged Sirius to Madame Pomfrey despite his many and varied protests that he was just fine. Madame Pomfrey had clucked over him and healed all his injuries. Hermione took him to a desolate corridor and sank down to the floor, looking at him.

"So you 'talked.' Are you two okay, now?" She asked uncertainly, staring at the rapidly fading bruises.

"Yeah, but if I hurt you at all, I'm a dead man," he said dryly. Hermione rolled her eyes.

"If you hurt me, he'll be lucky to find enough of you to kill," she said dryly. He gave a rusty chuckle and then winced. She frowned darkly. "Are you hungry?"

"Starved," he admitted. She ran down to the kitchen and hurried back with a small basket of breakfast food. Sirius inhaled almost the whole basket while she nibbled a muffin and watched him with fascination.

"Where does it all go?" she asked curiously. He looked up at her, finished chewing and swallowed. She grinned at him. Point one, chewing and swallowing before speaking.

"Dunno," he said after a moment. His robes were hanging open from his visit to Madame Pomfrey, and he lifted his shirt, exposing a hard, muscled stomach. "It doesn't go to my waist, that's for sure."

"Um, yeah," Hermione said softly, staring at the well-defined muscles of his stomach.

"Hermione, what if I do hurt you?" He asked softly. She looked up at him, and he looked like a worried puppy.

"What if I hurt you?" she whispered. He frowned.

"You wouldn't," he said flatly.

"I might," she said calmly. "Without ever meaning to, I might."

He snorted at the idea and dug into the basket, looking for more food. She smiled sadly at him, and hoped that she never had occasion to hurt this boy who seemed to think so highly of her.

I knew he had all sorts of issues, but I guess I never realized how fragile his heart was.

By the time you knew him, he'd been through hell for thirteen years. He was more injured animal than man at that point. He sure as hell wasn't trying to find true love. His whole life revolved around Harry and his promises to James and Lily.

You know, I'm starting to feel really, really bad about how I treated him in the beginning.

You were thirteen. Cut yourself some slack.

I was the brightest witch of my age. I was never a child, none of us were. Harry was fragile like that—I should have recognized it in Sirius.

That's what happens when you grow up in a house with no love, and no affection. You helped heal Harry of all of that, you and the Weasleys and Sirius. I'll do the best that I can.

I hope it's enough.

Me too.