A/N: You know there's plenty of fanfiction out there, and many of them surrounding Severus and Hermione. So, when I had been mulling over the general plot for "Accommodations", weeks before I began writing this story, I stumbled upon one of Caeria's works, called "Pet Project". It implements the basic idea of Hermione caring for Severus in unexpected ways, so it felt very slightly similar to my idea for "Accommodations". I assure you, though, that my story will wildly differ from Caeria's work, as you can already see. Anyway, this chapter contains a tip of the head to that magnificent and talented author. :)
On a more personal note, I'll be vacationing in Down Under soon, for a whole month, which affects five Mondays. I'm doing my best to get you through that time with biweekly updates, at least, but can't promise anything. First, because I don't know if I'll be able to type out two full chapters before my vacation starts, and second, because I can't know if I'll have internet access on the important update days. I'll do my best, of course, but please don't hate me if I can't make it.
I must say, I was a little surprised at some of the backlash I got for the last chapter. That only pertains to a very small number of readers, so if you're not one of them (which you most likely aren't), please don't feel as if I'm addressing you. :) I simply wanted to express that there is no shame for a young, newly sexually awakened schoolgirl to seek out the experienced, laid-back, super handsome and still relatively young godfather of her best friend, before going back to practically prostituting herself to the least-liked professor at her school, which will most likely result in more awkward stints the like of which she's had once before with him. So yeah, I feel that Hermione is free to explore while she still can.
Anyway, don't let my babbling keep you from your chapter. Enjoy, and do shower me with reviews, if you like. I so love them and appreciate every single one of them!
xxx Marcella
Sunday, December 29th, 1995
The next few days found Hermione exploring her own sexuality in more ways than she'd ever believed possible. Sirius taught her a great many things. She came apart under his generous attention time and again, in the most earth-shattering manner, only to be put back together by him and subsequently shattered anew.
While the years in Azkaban might have impeded him in the way of stamina, Sirius did not allow that to diminish his sense of caring for the young woman who had come to him for help. She'd asked to learn with him, and teach her he did. He taught her that it was possible to cook an early morning omelette, long before even Molly was up and about in the kitchen, while his fingers were coaxing her to a beautiful climax, and that some of the emptier shelves in the library were just made for her to sit on while he was feasting on her nectar. The pantry, it turned out, was the perfect place for plenty of stolen kisses and heated fumbling, and late one night, he even took her against the Black family tree, shagging her against the branch where Malfoy and Black merged together last.
This night, it seemed, it was high time for another lesson.
Hermione was lying in her own bed, listening to Ginny's breathing evening out and wondering how long it would be before it was safe for her to leave their room and steal her way upstairs to Sirius's bed, when the door opened.
The hinges made no sound, yet the beam of light falling into the room from the torches on the corridor immediately caught Hermione's attention. Wondering whether the boys were playing a trick on them, or whether Harry and Ron simply wanted to talk some more, she was half-surprised, half-relieved when she found the man-shaped shadow creeping into the girls' room to be somebody else.
"Sirius," she admonished him in a whisper, careful not to wake the girl sleeping in the bed beside hers, "what are you doing here?"
"I missed you," he replied, approaching her bed and shedding his morning robe as he drew nearer. Hermione was thrilled to see that except for a pair of long silken pyjama pants, he was naked underneath. "Didn't you miss me?"
"Sirius," Hermione said when he made to crawl underneath the covers, "you only just saw me. The shower, remember?"
"Oh kitten," he chuckled, turning her around so that he could spoon her from behind, "I won't be forgetting that anytime soon."
Hermione blushed as she remembered how he'd taken her against the shower wall, pounding into her until she came apart around him, and teaching her that it was possible to leave the shower feeling far dirtier than when one had entered it.
"Then what are you doing here, now?" she repeated her earlier question.
"I'm seeing you," Sirius replied, his hands trailing down her thighs, looking for the hem of her nightgown.
"It's dark," Hermione deadpanned.
"I'm seeing to you, then," he corrected himself, "to your needs – and mine."
He found what he'd been looking for and drew the hem up and over her hips.
"Now, shush, kitten," he whispered hotly into her ear, "you don't want to wake Ginny, do you?"
Hermione was shocked.
"Use a Silencing charm, Sirius," she whispered back, "please, just do something to give us some privacy."
"Tsk tsk tsk," Sirius admonished her, fumbling underneath the sheets until his pyjama pants were down far enough, "don't get all upset on me, kitten. The only wand I thought to bring with me is this one," he lifted her upper leg and his hardness slipped between her thighs, brushing against her core and finding her wet for him, "so shush now, and let me work my magic on you."
"Sirius," Hermione begged, still keeping her voice to a whisper, yet struggling to remain silent as the tip of his cock moved in the most delicious small circles against the bundle of nerves between her lips, "please."
"Oh no, kitten," came the reply, "there's only two ways we can do this. Option one, we don't, and I leave this instant. Option two," and he moved against her once more, causing her to grab the pillow to try and stifle her gasp, "you will need to keep very, very quiet."
It seemed that Sirius had learned that option one would never be any kind of acceptable option to Hermione, for he took only a second's time before sinking into her from behind.
"See now," he whispered, his breath hot against her ear, "that's what I thought."
He started out at a slow pace, but soon his thrusts quickened and so did Hermione's breathing, until she was panting in time with his pounding, and equally harshly as well. There was no way she would be able to remain quiet for much longer if he kept that up, and Sirius understood that.
"Alright, kitten," he breathed into her ear, and Hermione felt a certain sense of pride at the realization that he was panting as well, "change of plans."
And before she could react to his words in any way, Sirius's palm was over her mouth, muffling her squeak in surprise as he shifted so that he came to lie underneath her, Hermione's back on his chest. Her head fell back, coming to rest next to his, her neck bent over his shoulder. With her ear so close to his mouth, she could practically feel him panting. A sense of pride filled her, knowing that she could arouse him so, and her own arousal was increased tenfold from the sensation of his hot breath caressing her ear.
Buckling his knees to support his thrusts, Sirius snaked a hand between her thighs to play with her little button of pleasure, his strong forearm thus lying halfway across her stomach further stabilizing her on top of him. The fingers of his other hand were still keeping her mouth firmly shut.
"Not long now, kitten," he panted, and he would turn out to be right about that. A minute or two later, Hermione was shattered by a toe-curling climax, brought about by the fierce pounding of his cock into her, and by the delicious circling of his nubile fingers around her clit.
Sirius was not far behind her, and she revelled in the feeling of him coming inside her when he did. Carefully, Sirius rolled the two of them to the side, until they were in the exact same position they had started out in. He didn't leave the warm tightness of her just yet, and they cuddled together for a while.
"So," Sirius eventually whispered, and he sounded as if the upcoming topic would be a serious one, "tell me, kitten…"
He doodled circles and patterns onto the skin of her upper leg with his fingers as he spoke, as if that might make the discussion any easier.
"…will there be any little Blacks running about the house in September?"
Hermione physically moved away from him, feeling a pang of loss as he slipped from her centre. She knew, however, that it would be better if she faced him.
"You're thinking to ask me that now?" she whispered, louder than before.
"Well," Sirius stalled, "I just wanted to tell you that… well, that is, in case you forgot or something…"
"Of course I didn't forget!" Hermione shot him down, incensed that he would think her so thoughtless.
"Oh," he replied. What little she could make out of his face in the surrounding darkness appeared disappointed. "Alright, then. Well, I merely wanted to say that in case something happened… I wouldn't mind."
"You wouldn't –" Hermione got louder, but Sirius hushed her down.
"I would love to have children," Sirius admitted, and his confession took all the wind out of Hermione's sails.
"Don't you think that's something to discuss with the potential mother before coming inside of her multiple times a day, several days in a row?" Hermione asked.
"You're probably right," Sirius agreed, suddenly sounding bashful.
"Strike the 'probably'," Hermione said, "I am right about that, period. But no worries," she continued, "I took the Potion before coming here, to number twelve, and it will last for a year, so nothing's about to happen in that department."
"Okay," Sirius replied, somewhat sadly. "I guess it's too much to hope for someone like me, a hunted ex-convict, to think that a lovely young woman like you might carry my child. Merlin, it's still a miracle to me that you would even consent to lying with me at all, not to mention repeatedly for so long."
"Sirius," Hermione asked tentatively, "what's wrong? I've never heard you speak like that. You're usually so confident, and now –"
She trailed off, not certain where she was going with this, and what name to put to the number of emotions Sirius was displaying all of a sudden. It was true; she'd never seen him so sad, so disappointed, so shy, so… dare she say, bereft?
"It's nothing," Sirius answered. "I merely thought that – you know, my family is so fucked up, maybe if I added some new blood, someone sane, someone normal and yet as extraordinary as you are – that maybe, there was some way to save the family name, to have a new generation, with you, that would grow up to be kind, reasonable, open-minded…"
He did not continue.
"I won't say I'm sorry for not having your children, Sirius," Hermione asserted rather sternly, "because I'm not. I'm too young to give up my education, my prospects, everything I've dreamed of, to carry and to raise the children of a man I do not love. Not romantically, I mean," she corrected herself, "not more than the very dear friend you've become to me.
"I do, however," she continued, "very much hope that you will find the perfect woman for you, to have your children, to raise them in your image – or better yet, in hers –," Hermione winked at that, hoping to dispel some of the far too heavy tension between them, "and to give you all that you've dreamed of for your family. Merlin knows you deserve that."
Sirius did not reply to that, and he did not need to. Hermione saw all that she needed to know in his eyes, shining bright even in the darkness. Turning around, Hermione pressed her back to his chest again, allowing him to draw her close to his body, thus giving him the privacy to hide his tears.
When she woke later in the night, her hair still slightly wet where he'd rested his face against her curls, the spot behind her was empty. She was alone in her bed.
Monday, December 30th, 1995
The next morning found Sirius in a much better mood as he appeared to be back to his usual self-confident self when he grabbed Hermione by the waist just as she was walking down the stairs, carrying her a few steps and setting her down only when they'd reached the next landing.
"Sirius," Hermione admonished him with a smile on her face, her cheeks flushed from the surprise, "don't do that ever again! To shock me so when I'm on the stairs –"
"That's why I caught you, kitten," Sirius countered, his smile accompanied by a cheeky wink.
"You didn't catch me," Hermione shot back, "you grabbed me, and –"
She didn't get any further. The two of them had been on their way to the kitchen – or Hermione had been, at the very least, and Sirius had followed her – to grab a cup of tea. It was quite early for athe last Monday morning of the year, so Hermione had expected to find some peace and quiet in the kitchen, not thinking anybody except the two of them awake yet. For that same reason, she had carried on the very familiar banter with Sirius, not worrying that anybody might be in the room they were just entering.
As she was pushing the kitchen door open with her hips, walking backwards to look Sirius in the face while bantering with him as she was, his face fell, and Hermione turned around to see what had shocked him so. While even with a surprised expression, Sirius's face retained the smile painted widely across his features, Hermione accomplished no such thing. In fact, had she been able to formulate any coherent thought, she might have realized that she must look ridiculous, her mouth fallen agape as it had.
Albus Dumbledore stood in the kitchen.
His brightly turquoise robes with eggplant-coloured trimmings were the first thing Hermione registered, as the colours clashed so heavily with the bleak room the Headmaster was standing in. That Molly Weasley and Kingsley Shacklebolt were there as well, took her a moment longer to become aware of.
"Professor Dumbledore," she found her tongue again, greeting politely. "Mrs Weasley, Auror Shacklebolt."
Kingsley tilted his head to the side, only in the slightest, but Hermione had become so used to reading what little hints Professor Snape allowed in his outward appearance that she noticed the motion anyway. Shooting him a shy little smile, she hoped that he understood why she was being overly correct today, with the Headmaster present. Then again, she didn't quite understand herself.
Sirius had no such qualms.
"Albus," he greeted him, excessively happy, "and Kings. Pleasure to see you."
"Sirius," the Headmaster returned the greeting, "Miss Granger."
Lingering on her form a little longer, Professor Dumbledore's eyes suddenly twinkled in abandon.
"I take it that your assignment proved to be a success, Miss Granger?"
Hermione wanted to groan at the Headmaster's audacity to speak of her task surrounding the Potions Master in front of other people. Why he thought – and correctly at that – that Professor Snape had been the one to take her virginity, when she had just been caught bantering with Sirius in far too familiar a way, was beyond her. Yet for that simple reason, that they were around other people, she didn't groan aloud. What she did do, however, was Occlude until she felt that she couldn't even read her own thoughts anymore.
"Success might be too bold a term, professor," she replied, and it felt to her as if she had to force the words through a thick cloud inside her mind. Her Occlumency efforts appeared to be effective. "Progress, perhaps."
"Progress, then," the Headmaster nodded his agreement., "tThat is very satisfactory."
"What assignment, 'Mione?" Sirius asked, bold as ever.
"A… pet project, of sorts," Hermione evaded his answer.
Sirius didn't appear satisfied, but to her great relief did not push the issue any further. Kingsley's eyes lingered on her for a moment too long, Hermione felt, before shooting to Sirius, then back to her, and his expression told her that Kingsley must have reached some kind of conclusion. Hermione hoped that it was the wrong one, and that it might be favourable to her.
"Anyway," Mrs Weasley now entered the conversation, dispelling some of the strange tension that had settled over the small crowd, "will you stay for breakfast, Albus? I can have the tea ready in just a minute, and Hermione, would you be so kind as to get the eggs? Sirius, there should still be bacon in –"
"Thank you, Molly," Professor Dumbledore interrupted the eager witch, "but we really must be going now. Kingsley?"
And with a wave of his hand, the Headmaster had ushered Kingsley out of the kitchen. When passing her, the Auror had shot Hermione another meaningful look. She was almost certain that it had carried his intention to speak to her soon, though whether that was a promise or a threat, she could not tell. She simply hoped that it meant she might see him again before the holidays were over.
Tuesday, December 31st, 1995
The morning of New Year's Eve 1995 dawned like any other December morning in London would – dark, dank, and cloudy. Hermione had stayed in Sirius's bed for once, hoping that Ginny would think her roommate had risen early upon waking up alone, and was now lying next to the man she had spent a number of fabulous nights and an even larger number of fabulous stints with.
There was something she needed to do. These past days, she had always held off, but the topic must not be avoided any longer.
"Sirius," she whispered once he'd opened his eyes and shot her a sleepy smile. "Sirius, there is something I need to tell you."
"Perfect, kitten," he replied with a cheeky smile, and was over her in a second. His legs were between hers, forcing her thighs open, and they readily parted for him. Stark naked as they both were, his hard tip was nudging her entrance in a matter of seconds.
"You know I love it when you talk to me."
And with that, he sank into her. Groaning at the wetness that greeted him, he settled into a rhythm that had them both gasping for breath soon. Although they both tried to hold back to lengthen their combined pleasure, it was over too soon for their taste. Sirius came to the sound of his name tumbling repeatedly over Hermione's lips, and she followed him soon after, his thumb eliciting the most delicious sensations where it was rubbing circles around and over her clit.
When they had both calmed down from their high, Sirius rolled off of Hermione again, coming to lie next to her with a self-satisfied grin on his face.
"Now, kitten," he announced, "now that your little kitty is fed, perhaps it's time that the lions get breakfast as well, don't you think? Don't know how you're feeling, but I, at least, need a cup of coffee to get over my disappointment at the lack of expletives from your mouth just now."
He winked at her, showing he wasn't serious, and with that, he was off the bed and in his pants.
"Take your time getting up, of course," he said. "Nobody else on this floor, so at least you have the bathroom to yourself."
Once the door closed behind the admirably muscled back of one Sirius Black, Hermione exhaled a deep sigh. Intent on getting him to talk to her before midnight, she got up, collected her clothes and, once dressed, descended the stairs, hoping that Ginny would have gotten up already so that she might change her outfit before going to breakfast.
As it happened, that opportunity presented itself later that day.
"Sirius?" Hermione called out to him when he came descending down the stairs. She had been looking for him and on her way up to Buckbeak's room when she happened upon him. "May I talk to you for a moment? Perhaps in the library?"
The door was open, and the room was perfect to talk. People rarely came in here.
"I was just on my way to Harry," Sirius explained, then smiled. "But hey, he can wait for – say, twenty minutes? I promise I'll make them seem like an hour to you."
He grabbed Hermione's offered hand and raised his eyebrows in surprise when she led him to the sofa in front of the grand fireplace.
"On the couch?" he asked. "I was thinking you might like to go to our usual corner," a wink and a lick of his lips showed her exactly what he'd had in mind for her, "but if you like it kinky, you little minx, then sure, we can do it where anybody walking in might see us."
The bulge in his trousers showed that he was, indeed, 'up' for that kind of naughtiness, but Hermione was having none of it.
"Please, Sirius," she said, gently extracting his hands from where they'd slipped under her skirt, "I really wanted to talk."
"Talk, then, kitten," Sirius replied, not yet deterred from what he'd planned for the half-empty bookshelf in the back of the library, "I can listen while putting my own tongue to work."
He had almost delved down to her crotch, when she grabbed him by the shoulders to hold him back.
"For fuck's sake, Sirius Black," Hermione cursed, and groaned when she saw his satisfied grin at hearing her use expletives in his presence, "please, just listen to me for once, alright?"
His face turned serious at that, and he sat up straight. His thumb was still resting on her knee where Hermione had it bent to face him on the couch, drawing lazy circles on her skin.
"Alright, Hermione," he answered, "I'm all ear."
"Listen, I –" she broke off, then tried again. "This isn't easy for me, but I – I will have to pull a Cinderella on you tonight."
"Okay," Sirius nodded eagerly, "sounds kinky." After a moment, he tilted his head to one side in question. "What's a Cinderella?"
"It's a princess," a deep voice suddenly supplied from the depths of the library. "She leaves her prince at midnight, disappearing from the ball with the full intention of never being found by him."
"Why would she do such a thing?" Sirius snorted. "Sounds like a dick move to me."
"Perhaps you should ask her that," Remus said, coming out from between the aisles and inclining his head to point towards Hermione.
"Kitten?" Sirius asked, now a worried expression on his face. "What is wrong?"
"Nothing's wrong, Sirius," Hermione tried to assure him, but her expression would not obey even her best intentions, "it's just that I can't continue this" – she waved between them to indicate their relationship – "anymore. Not after this year has ended."
"What is this?" Sirius queried, his features half-sad, half-enraged, "some twisted kind of new year's resolution? Was this just a game to you?"
"I thought we had agreed," Hermione said, though her voice sounded like she was begging him, "this was fun, but it couldn't go on forever."
"Who is he?" Sirius growled.
Hermione leaned back from him, now fear slowly creeping into her heart.
"What?"
"The other man," he explained, "the one you're leaving me for; who is he?"
"Well, if you ask me," Remus chimed in, ignoring Hermione's glare in his direction that told him loudly that she wasn't asking him, "it must be the one who had her first. Or perhaps, of course," he went on, looking pensive, "little Miss Hermione Granger has grown into a woman who jumps from one man to the other, leaving desperate creatures left and right in her wake."
Hermione was appalled that he might even suggest such a thing, yet glad when Sirius shook his head no at the implication his best friend was making.
"Alright then," Remus said lightly, as if he hadn't just insulted Hermione, "I'll leave you two to it."
"Why would he even say such a thing?" Hermione asked once he was gone. "Sirius, you know I would never –"
"I know, kitten," Sirius tried to calm her, though the hurt at her leaving him was still visible in his features. "This moon's transformation was hard on him, I think, and the wolf is still present. Even though the sexual pressure is gone, the hurt at being rejected is still there, and Moony transforms that hurt into aggression. I'm sorry he insulted you that way."
His thumb resumed its rubbing motion on her knee for a minute, before Sirius pulled away.
"It's him, isn't it?"
"Him?" Hermione echoed, then shook her head. "No, of course not. I love Remus, but I didn't –"
"Not Remus," Sirius shook his head, "I'm not talking about him."
"Who, then?" Hermione asked, scared he might have actually found out.
"It all makes sense now," Sirius pondered, increasing Hermione's agitation. "He rarely comes here outside of official Order meetings, and if he should have come by during these past days, then on Dumbledore's orders, and probably only to talk to Molly. Did you meet per chance, did you, and you decided to just do it? Or did you agree to meet here, to do the deed?"
"Excuse me?" Hermione asked, feeling as if she wasn't even a part of the conversation anymore. That assumption appeared to be right when Sirius continued without addressing her confusion.
"I guess some women might find him handsome," he went on, "tall, dark, and – Holy fucking Merlin," Sirius suddenly exclaimed, "you told me! You fucking told me, and I didn't even realize. Pure Black, that's what you said, wasn't it? And I – I mean, we went to school together, he was a few years above me, a little awkward then, but I guess he must have grown into his looks… Pure Black, Circe, you said, and still I didn't –"
"Sirius?" Hermione cautiously probed when he suddenly fell silent. She was already fearing the worst. How would he react, the man who had been so kind to her, so loving with her, when he realized that his childhood nemesis had been her first? She did not want to find out.
"Sirius?"
"And he was here," he continued, surprising Hermione. "Yesterday, he was in the kitchen, in my fucking kitchen, and I never even –"
"What?" Hermione almost shouted. "Who are you talking about?"
"It's Kingsley, isn't it?" Sirius asked. "Your secret lover, your first. It's Kingsley Shacklebolt."
"Sirius," Hermione tried to placate him, struggling not to allow the relieved smile to spread over her face, so glad was she for Sirius to have come to the wrong assumption, "does it really matter? I can't continue our… affair any longer, and that should be enough, shouldn't it? And no, it's not some kind of twisted new year's resolution as you feared. I just – I just can't, okay?"
"Okay," Sirius replied in an empty voice. "As you wish."
"I'm sorry," Hermione impressed, "I really am."
Silence fell around them. When the minutes dragged on, Hermione couldn't stand it any longer, sitting there, just staring into empty air. She made to get up, but just in that moment, Sirius spoke.
"Midnight, huh?" he asked. At her confused expression, he elaborated, "That's what Remus said about that princess."
"Yes," Hermione confirmed, "midnight."
"Well, if that's the case," Sirius said, a determined grin spreading over his face, "then let me make this a New Year's Eve you'll never forget."
And with that, he pulled a squealing Hermione towards him by the hips, until she came to lie underneath him, and showed her how delicious things could be under the real danger of anybody walking in on them at any time.
Coming up: Chapter twenty-nine, wherein godfather and godchild take a trip to town.