September 19th, 2005.
They settled on the same couch, sitting opposite each other with their limbs tangled together under the blanket. Sirius insisted that Hermione chose the movie and for some crazy reason, she decided on watching one that had ended with her weeping and Sirius shifting uncomfortably in his seat.
With the popcorn long forgotten and pushed aside on the table, he glanced at her. She was wiping off the last traces of the tears she'd shed and when she caught him watching, she sent him a sheepish smile. He rolled his eyes at her adorable behaviour. Merlin, he'd become just like Prongs.
"Why would he marry her if he knew she was going to die?" he wondered out loud, breaking the thick silence.
She blinked at him thoughtfully and twirled a lock of her hair; yet another habit he'd come to adore.
"He loved her and knew that it was better to love her till the last breath she took, instead of regretting not doing anything when he had a chance," she answered eventually.
Flashes of a familiar couple flooded his mind and he nodded in understanding. "Ah, like James and Lily."
"Yes." She wore a fond smile, probably recalling her new friends. He thought of how lucky he was to like someone who managed to get along with his best friends and fit right in, as though she'd known them for a lifetime.
"—They knew there was the risk of the growing war, but that didn't stop James from proposing. He knew he wanted to spend all the time he had with Lily," she finished, respect and awe bleeding into her tone.
He nodded mutely and paused to stare at her once more. "Would you have done that?" he asked, uncertain.
She gave him a startled look. "I'm sorry?"
"Would you have taken the risk to marry someone . . . say during the war?" he repeated, shuffling underneath the blanket that laid upon the two of them. Her socks tickled the hair on his legs, but he didn't mind.
"I might have - yes," she said slowly. "If I truly loved someone unconditionally, I might've married them right away."
His eyes gleamed with curiosity. "Then, why didn't you?"
Her voice took over the matter-of-fact tone he'd remembered her using whenever she mouthed every single piece of knowledge she owned. "It's quite simple. I didn't really have anyone like that in my life—and even if I did—I wouldn't have done that to Harry."
At his confused stare, she scoffed loudly. "What do you think he would've done, had I told him I was getting married? He would've told me to stay back, safe with the guy, while he sacrifices himself and tries to defeat Voldemort all by himself."
His eyes widened comically, him astonished by the loyalty she'd so casually displayed. Her eyes sparkled with a fierce fire, and he was proud to be there to witness it. He knew now that no Voldemort or Death Eater could ever dampen her determination, though Bellatrix had come close to it.
He fought the urge to caress the scarred skin of her forearm. Instead, he leaned forward and clasped her hands together with his. "You're a great friend," he told her sincerely, his gaze catching the caramel flecks in her eyes.
They softened instantly at his words and she preened under his praise. He gave her a wide smile when red tinged her cheeks. He was grateful that this time it was due to his applause, not his taunting.
He was getting there, slowly but surely.
She gnawed on her lower lip and checked her watch. "We should probably get ready and go," she announced, getting up and slipping her feet into her slippers.
He nodded dumbly, still focusing on the sudden loss of warmth he felt even while still under the blanket. He shrugged it off and stood to face her. Tugging on a stray curl and pushing it behind her ear, he gave her a lazy smile. "Get your fur ready, Kitten," he teased lowly.
She rolled her eyes and left the room, not before sticking her tongue out at him and giving him a rude gesture that would have the younger Hermione gasp. Sirius shook his head fondly, heading to his room to dress and make sure his glorious locks of hair could highlight his undeniable good looks.
—
A fair half an hour later, Sirius stood in front of the Floo and waited for the birthday girl. It didn't take him long to realize that he'd let it slip that they were going to the Weasleys.
He stifled a groan for being unable to keep the surprise party a secret from her. Was there anything—really, anything—that the witch did not manage to know?
He was snapped out of his thoughts when she walked in - oh, so gracefully. A wide smile bloomed on her plump, pink tinted lips and his own quirked up.
He slowly dragged his eyes down her body, drinking in every line and every slope of her features. Her soft, yet tight, pastel pink dress left him marvelling at how beautiful she looked, with her mass of curls shading into a golden, but still brown halo due the light that seeped through from behind.
She cleared her throat and he glanced up at her, not looking remotely embarrassed for blatantly checking her out. He placed a lingering kiss on her soft hand and didn't let go of it until they moved to grab the Floo Powder.
"You look absolutely gorgeous," he told her with a winning smile, looking at her just for a few more seconds before yelling out his destination.
He blinked several times and moved ahead to give Hermione some space as she arrived. He watched her wobble unsteadily and he was quick to place an arm around her waist to steady her.
"Easy there," he murmured against her ear.
She nodded mutely, surveying the changes the Burrow decorated. They walked in together and his heart warmed up at the sight of the witch in his arms.
Hermione was beaming, her cheeks reddening in even darker shades as guests proceeded to approach her, wishing her a happy birthday. Sirius caught his best friends staring at his arm, still placed around her waist, and sporting a matching set of raised brows.
He sighed and reluctantly let go of her, letting different people drag her Merlin knows where. He strolled to the men he'd grown up with and pursed his lips when they sniggered at him.
"Not a word," he warned.
James clapped him on the back and grinned. "I see she still tolerates you—"
"—And you're still trying to woo her," drawled Remus, giving him a knowing look Sirius had grown to groan at.
"Yes, well . . ." he grimaced, rubbing the back of his neck, "I'm still new at the chasing part."
He wasn't being purposely arrogant. It really needn't be said for everyone to know the effects he had on the women and men around him.
Sirius Black had an abundant charm; the fairer sex not even giving him the chance to woo anyone because they were the ones chasing him with never-ending love.
But of course, Hermione had to be different. Not that he minded. Sirius repeatedly told himself to be patient, and patient he would be.
—
"Hermione!" called out a familiar voice.
"Harry," she greeted with a soft smile, reaching out to give him a hug. She let go of him as soon as he complained about death due to hair suffocation.
Rolling her eyes, she interrupted whatever he was about to say and told him bluntly, "You know, it's about time you do it."
Confusion flickered across his features before embarrassment came flooding in. He raked his fingers through his own awful hair and let out a groan. "I know I should. Dad told me the same thing and I even have it in my pocket right now—I should just do it today, shouldn't I?"
She stood calmly, letting him stumble through his words as she placed a hand on his shoulder. "There's nothing to be nervous about. She loves you, Harry."
With squared shoulders and a reluctant nod, Harry trudged across the yard where his girlfriend stood. She felt a fond smile tug at the corners of her lips, looking at her childhood best friend and waiting for him to finally get on his knees and propose to Ginny.
She abruptly turned around when a Patronus—Head Auror Robards's, she recognized—called for her attention. "Auror Granger, your presence is needed at the Department of Mysteries. Come quickly."
Hermione instantly grabbed her wand from the holster she wore around her leg and transfigured her dress, turning it into the proper shirt and pants. She drew a long breath, preparing to apparate, stopping only when she heard Harry call out her name.
She turned around to face him and shook her head. "I'll manage, Harry. You make sure to do what you were planning to, or I'll come throttle you."
Without giving him a chance to respond and failing to see Sirius as he made his way towards her, she let the familiar tug in her gut take her away.
Blinking rapidly, she glanced at her boss and made her way towards him, studying his face to find a clue as to what the issue was. "What's going on?" she finally asked once she reached him.
Relief took over his face. "Amos Diggory has broken into the Death Chamber and refuses to break the wards until he speaks to you."
Hermione remembered seeing the man briefly a couple of times in her fourth year but after Cedric's death, she hadn't gotten the chance to meet him again. Giving him a tense nod and swallowing down the memories of the Third Task, she briskly stormed past the crowd and made her way up to the room she'd been in months ago.
Another Auror stood in front of the door to the Death Chamber room, trying to coax the man inside to give in. She gestured for him to stand aside, and she began slow tentative steps towards the barrier the ex-Ministry worker had created.
"Mr. Diggory?" she called out, grabbing his attention and forcing him to turn away from the Veil.
"Please, get out of there. That room isn't safe," she advised, fear rising quickly at his closeness to the loathsome curtain.
The older man trashed his head, refusing to surrender. Sighing to herself, she drew a breath to stay calm. "Then, maybe you can let me come in?" she tried to press.
He surprisingly altered the wards with his wand, waving his hand in a strange, unfamiliar motion. She gave the Auror a look, silently telling him to memorize what he was doing and find out what kind of magic he was using.
After receiving a reluctant nod and seeing him turn around to find a Curse-Breaker, she gripped her wand tightly and reluctantly walked up to Diggory.
Careful not to agitate him further, she gave him what she hoped looked like a genuine smile. "Mr. Diggory, it's nice to meet you again. I heard you were calling for me."
His glazed eyes met hers and he gave her a haunted look. "Granger!" he cried out as he strode to her, ignoring her raised wand and grasping onto her shoulders. "You need to bring back my son!"
Latching her fingers around his wrists, she tried to to pull away from his hold, a frown marring her face. "I'm sorry. I can't do that."
He jerked away instantly, the loss of his weight making her stumble slightly before she shot him a Stupefy. He moved out of the way and yelled out Bombarda. She ducked down and stood back up, calling out Locomotor Mortis at him.
He blocked it with a Shield Charm and yelled a Flipendo. She cursed under her breath as she jerked around the blue beam of light and her steps faltered. He immediately shot an Impedimenta, hitting it square in her chest. The force threw her backwards and she fell on her backside with a rugged sway.
As he inched closer to her, her fingers skimmed the cold tiles, anxiously looking for her wand that had flown out of her hand. She felt the familiar walnut wood under her palm and her breath hitched, before scrambling to get it.
A shade passed on Diggory's face. "Crucio," he whispered with the same cruel, wicked smile and tone she hadn't seen since the day she'd writhed at Malfoy Manor.
She frantically slid out of the way, unconsciously letting the Veil tug her closer. Not allowing herself to give in to the panic, she breathed in sharply when he shot a Sectumsempra at her and she failed to block it.
Hot blood pooled in and she hastened to breathe out the counter spell, intense pain still squeezed around her stomach. Diggory lunged forward and she watched with dread as he - oh, so ironically threw Bellatrix Lestrange's old wand into the Veil.
Hermione Granger was fucked.