October 25th, 2005.
"Took you long enough, Milaya."
The first step inside the room turned out to be a mistake, and yet Hermione ignored the signs. She gripped her wand as tight as she could, glowering at the man in front of her. Dolohov looked positively deranged, his hair and dishevelled clothes a sign of how long he'd been in hiding.
"Why are you here?" she whispered harshly, taking a step forward and trying to mask her confusion when that simple move seemed to take a toll out of her. What—
No . . . she examined the magic thrumming inside the room, forcing her gaze around the walls and examining it as much as she could without her wand. Did he put a Mind-Altering spell on the doorway?
Dolohov's laugh caught her attention. "Brightest Witch of Our Age, indeed," he said darkly, a sharp smile painted over his lips. Her lips curled in at the gaze that roamed over her figure, and she told herself that she needed to figure how to defeat him and remove this spell soon—
—but something was physically holding her back. Black spots filled her vision as every single bone in her body began to feel excruciatingly heavy. She fought against the terrible need to gasp for breath.
Dolohov stepped closer and raised a brow, tilting his head as though he was considering her. "You can make it easy for me, Milaya. Tell me how we can bring back the Dark Lord, and I'll make sure he keeps you alive."
Bitter laughter tumbled out of her mouth, as slurry as her mind felt at the moment, and she shook her head, eyeing the Death Eater impassively. "How daft do you have to be, to think that I'll ever let that happen?"
She had Dolohov's full attention right now. If she continued talking to him, she could also figure out how to remove whatever spell this room had put on her before he could do anything else. So, she continued confidently, "Why couldn't you just leave this fucking house alone?"
Dolohov stepped forward, his wand rolling beneath his fingers as he leaned closer towards her ear, whispering, "After their death . . . doesn't their murderer deserve their every possession?"
He killed them.
Hermione saw red.
Scorching waves of anger rolled like acid within the confines of her stomach, and the idea of distracting him went out of the window as she immediately shouted, "You fucking bastard!"
By the time her wand arm rose to aim an Incarcerous at him, Dolohov had already moved out of the way, stepping behind her. Stench attacked her senses as he leaned his chin on her shoulder, pressing the tip of his wand against her hip. "Careful, Mudblood. Remember your fucking place before I punish you for removing my memory that day."
She exhaled a harsh breath, noticing with heavy dread the loud footsteps that stopped at the doorway. "Hermione!"
Squeezing her eyes shut, she tried desperately to move her head towards the door. "Sirius, don't—don't come in. He put a spell out for anyone who enters—"
Dolohov cut her off with a snort. "Ah, ah! What do we have here? Are you so worried about the mutt, Milaya?" Dark eyes invaded her vision as the Death Eater appeared in front of her again, turning his scrutinizing gaze towards the doorway and then back on her.
"You leave her the fuck alone!" Sirius bellowed, and she could feel the angry magic that seeped within his presence. Dolohov began to address him then, mentioning all the vile things that he will do with her, but she tuned him out. She wasn't going to let him do shit.
She began to reach from within for her magic core, deciding that wandless magic will have to do for the moment. She pictured the wand movements that she would have done for the spell and—
"I'll start with a personal favourite, and you can watch as she suffers. Crucio!"
—she struck. "Expulso!"
Multiple things happened then. She caught Harry's voice as he took down the spell, and Sirius's booming steps as he ran towards her.
But he wasn't fast enough.
Just before her eyes fluttered shut, she caught the flash of blue that hit Dolohov directly on the chest and threw him across the room, but the moment of victory only lasted so long before she fell down to her knees and screamed out in pain, the short-lasting Cruciatus still tearing her ribs apart.
Pain shot down from her fingertips to the bottom of her skull, and she clenched her teeth when she felt someone picking her up. The soft murmurs in her ear were the last thing her mind registered before darkness took over.
.
"I've got you. I'm sorry—fuck!" Sirius rambled, choking on his words as he stared at the witch in his arms. He didn't take his eyes off of her as he hurried downstairs, and immediately called for Malfoy. He had already told Harry to take care of the sick fucker.
Sirius's wide eyes pinned on the Healer only just barely. "You need to do something—"
Malfoy turned to look at him, his eyes widening once he noticed Hermione in his arms. "What happened?" he asked quickly, motioning for him to lay her down on the couch nearby.
"She was hit with the Cruciatus Curse— and some spell that seemed to block her movements," he said, curling his hands into tight fists as he glared at the unconscious form in front of him. She shouldn't have gone by herself - without him.
The worry that coloured Malfoy's features did nothing to calm him down. "We need to go to St. Mungo's immediately. Wait for Potter to get the rest of the Death Eaters to the Ministry," he informed him, and before Sirius could say anything, he and Hermione were gone in a blink.
Fuck.
Sirius hated waiting. He didn't think he could spend one more second outside of this fucking door and just wait for her to wake up. It didn't help that his mind was set on reminding him of what he still couldn't say to Hermione.
He couldn't utter something as simple as three words.
And he almost lost her.
"I need to tell her," he whispered desperately, looking inside the small window on the door and staring at the group of Healers that shielded his view of Hermione.
A hand landed on his shoulder and pulled for his attention. "Tell her what?"
Sirius spun around, his mouth falling open as he looked at Harry, his brows furrowed.
He knew that he shouldn't be rash - especially in talking about how much his Godson's best friend meant to him, but nothing could hold back the words that slipped out, cracking at the memory of Hermione, "I need to tell her that I — I like her, Harry."
Emerald eyes blinked up at him, his words clearly not registering in Harry's mind, until a visible shock appeared on his face. Sirius held his stare and nodded before Harry could ask if he was sure—
"I know this is not like me, but . . . this damn witch has me crazy for her. I can't get her out of my mind!" he rambled, and really - that much should have done the job, since Harry was already looking behind him, but he kept going:
"No matter how hard I try and tell myself that this is just a small attraction, I can't stop my eyes from focusing on her every time she walks in. She's so bloody gorgeous, and the small dimple that shows when she truly smiles has me fucking besotted. I'm fucking done for, is what I am."
"Language," a voice chided in the back, but like the idiot he was, he kept going, his eyes fluttering shut as he pictured her soft, caramel eyes.
"I like—" slender fingers wrapped around his arm, and before he knew it, he was turned around - facing the last person he wanted to hear him blabbering like an idiot; he resumed weakly, "—her. I like her."
Hermione fucking Granger stood in front of him in all her glory, St. Mungo's gown included, with bare feet that showed her toes painted in red and a bunch of curls that needed a hand - his hand - to run through them. She arched a brow, just a fraction, placed her hands on his shoulders, and she stood on her tiptoes so that she could reach his eye level.
With his breath now taken away, she murmured, "I was hoping I would be the first person to hear about this but . . ." she looked at Harry and his smile must've been encouraging because she immediately latched her gaze back on him, and there was a fire in her eyes that made him thirsty for her attention. He wanted to be ruined, left scorching hot in her presence. "I like you too."
He exhaled a heavy breath, his eyes dropping down to her lips. "What?" he whispered hoarsely. He needed to hear this again - needed to know it wasn't just his head playing games—
"Hermione, dear!" Molly Weasley announced as she pulled his Hermione away from him and caught her in an exceedingly long hug.
Sirius frowned deeply.
He didn't see the rest of the Weasleys, Potters and Lupins coming to steal her right from under his nose until it was too late.
Hermione's eyes lingered by his lips as she talked to everyone, and that was the only thing that managed to make him pull a smug smile and truly realize what had just happened in the past few - what? Minutes?
It felt like a lifetime had already passed, and a new one was created for just him and Hermione.
Together.
Sirius actually didn't get to properly talk to Hermione in private until she was released from St. Mungo's and told by Draco Malfoy to start sleeping on her actual bed. So, the next morning - for the second time in his life, Sirius found himself making his celebratory "illness release" breakfast for Hermione.
He remembered how bewildered she had looked the first time, questioning why he had been spending so much time with her. He wondered what would have happened if he had just confessed his feelings right then and there . . .
"Sirius?"
His head snapped up and a smile immediately formed on his lips at the sight that greeted him. Morning Hermione looked absolutely endearing, no matter what she thought. He watched as she moved to her seat cautiously, as though she was entering the lion's den.
He rolled his eyes, easily plopping down his seat and filling up her plate with waffles and a spoonful of chocolate bliss. Flexing his arm, he leaned against the edge of the table and passed it to her. He arched a brow when she merely gaped at him.
"You're making me blush, Kitten," he teased, the side of his mouth curling at the blush that spread from her cheeks to her neck and down—
"Eyes up here, Mister."
He blinked, tilting his head. "As bossy as ever," he murmured with a soft laugh.
(He was convinced he loved her.)
He waited for her to get started on her breakfast before bringing up the brief confession they had shared at St. Mungo's. Clearing his throat, his gaze snapped up at the blank ceiling above his head. "So - you like me, huh?"
A sound of spluttering came from the other side, mixed with forced coughing and a glass of water being slammed down the table. "You could've killed me!"
He grinned at her, letting his eyes freely roam over her face. "What? With my delectable looks?"
She made a face. "No, with you being a fool," she replied curtly, though her composure continued to falter when he stood from his seat and approached her. "What—what are you doing?" she demanded as he leaned down, and his hands landed on the curve of her waist.
He picked her up easily and settled her lovely arse on top of the table. His fingers slowly moved up from her wrists to her shoulders, and when they reached a certain spot on her neck, she made an adorable noise that made him want to kiss her right then and there.
He finally buried his hands deep under the mass of soft curls, and he nudged her legs apart with his knee, moving even closer. The touch of her was like a magnet. "I'm asking you something," he finally answered, gently smiling at her flustered look.
"Did you have to get up? I mean—"
He cut her off with a soft grin. "Do you like me?"
Her eyes shone with something indecipherable, and he could've waited centuries for her answer, just so that he could stay there, bask in her presence and admire each and every freckle that crossed the path of his gaze. But kind as she was, she didn't make him wait any longer.
"Yes. I do— I like you, Sirius Black."
He felt a beaming smile grow on his lips, just before his eyes dropped down to watch as her teeth sunk down on her bottom lip, leaving it red for him to suck on. He sucked in a sharp breath.
The expectant gaze that met his was the last confirmation he needed as he leaned in, expelling a soft sigh of content, and his lips slanted over hers. They moved in tandem, softly at first, revelling in the feel of her against his mouth, before it grew more desperate, showing the memories of the nights he spent imagining this moment.
Sirius never knew a kiss could mean so much to him until he shared it with Hermione. He didn't know he could put so much of his soul into it, and he won't realize it until much later.
(He ignored the pull that now began to grow in his chest, for the sake of holding onto her.)
She chuckled softly when he pulled back and began peppering her with soft kisses all over her face. "Sirius Black, I am so done with you."
He cupped her face and pecked her pouty lips once more. "Whatever you say, love."
Something akin to absolute adoration shone in her beautiful eyes, and he couldn't look away. Not that he wanted to.
"Please, don't leave me," she murmured softly, and that was the sign he needed to kiss her again; pouring his heart and promise in it.
The trials for Dolohov and the rest of the Death Eaters felt somewhat unreal. It was as though a proper, sealed ending had finally come for the past. Hermione believed that this was truly the chance for her to move on.
If she hadn't let her guards down and become so foolish - again, things might have gone differently.
A/N: It's been a while, hasn't it? I am sorry for making you wait for so long. I actually started my first year of university a few months ago, and well - it's been a mess with online classes. Anyways, I hope you enjoyed this chapter? I would love to hear what you think! They finally kissed in their good, old kitchen, looking like a domestic couple already :') However, don't think this is over. I have one last phase planned for this story!