The bike was hot between her thighs. She had been riding all afternoon, and the old black Triumph was running like a champ. Each kilometer took her further away from the simmering disappointment at the coffee date she had forced herself to endure. He had been another 'secret fan' curious about the woman who had helped bring down the dark lord. All he had wanted to talk about was the war, and all she had on her mind the entire time was the attic at Grimmauld Place.
She smiled in the helmet and pushed the bike faster, willing it to out-run the thoughts that had been plaguing her since that night
Even with the cool breeze whipping past her, her curiosity lingered. Lingered was the wrong word for it. Her curiosity was latched on to her brain like a leach. A leach that quickly sucked away any distractions she tried to create for herself in the meantime. Her mind would not stop speculating on what had happened at Grimmauld. Was she crazy? Did she really need some sort of psychological help? Is this what it had come to? Was this some kind of joke? Or even more unnerving, was it all real? Had she really been speaking with someone known to be long dead? Finally, she wove through the afternoon traffic and pushed into fifth gear, the bike shot forward and she reveled in the feeling of weightlessness.
The countryside was cooler. As she rode over the dappled patterns the trees formed on the road, under their leaf-green glow she forgot herself and let the bike dictate where she would end up. For a while it kept the leach away.
Predictably however, the leach reared up in retaliation, and the sun was just beginning to set when she pulled up to the sidewalk beside Grimmauld. Her subconscious apparently impatient with her stubbornness when it came to her previous experience. Sighing heavily, she stepped off the bike and walked up the drive, muttering the wandless incantation to open the wards as she did.
She walked up the stairs swiftly, and headed directly towards the attic. She slammed her helmet down beside the record player, her eyes not leaving the spot on the windowsill. The room was empty. Her heart fell, of course it was. It was all too good to be true. She had been feeling too happy over the past few days. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, trying to push her disappointment down. It was better this way, she thought. A small lapse in sanity, something her psyche made up to make her feel better. She should be less worried now. How come all she felt was a renewed loss? She wasn't sure what she was hoping to find, but it felt a lot more lonely without him here.
Breathing a heavy sigh of the musty stagnant air she slid the window open and poured herself a small drink.
"What are we listening to today?"
She jumped, letting out a distressed cry as she reeled around her wand out. There he was grinning at her reaction with tattoos flashing under a dark red button down shirt. At that moment all her questions melted from her...
"Merlin Sirius you scared me."
He shrugged, chuckling quietly at her, "you're back." he noted gesturing in her direction.
She snorted, "you too."
He nodded, "so I am." He glanced around the room, adjusting himself to a comfortable seat on the sill as he did. His eyes went from the helmet on the table to Hermione shrugging off a dark brown leather jacket. His eyebrows shot up.
"You ride?" he questioned.
"Your bike" she answered.
He blinked, "M-my bike?" he stammered standing, "it still flies?"
She leaned against the wall across from him and took a sip of her drink, "It should, I keep both tires firmly on the ground, however."
"Why in bloody hell would you do that? It took me ages to work that out!"
"Sirius, I hate flying, you remember that."
"Huurmph, if you flew Shelia you wouldn't hate it so much, I promise you." He pouted back.
"I highly doubt it" Hermione stated shaking her head, her nose wrinkling at at his pet name for the bike.
"She still runs though?"
Hermione nodded smiling, "Started up no problem after years of storage."
Sirius grinned again, his face looked 10 years younger "wicked."
Hermione couldn't help but grin back, "Ginny made me take it when Harry found it. For a girl who's father worked in the Department for Muggle Artifacts she's very wary about Muggle technology. Little did she know that I would actually make use of it."
Sirius chuckled and Hermione smirked as she made her way over to the old record player in the corner. Her eyes scanned through the old milk crate of Muggle records. She felt his eyes on her back as she pushed long curls behind her ear. Smiling softly she selected one and placed it gently on the turn table. She set the needle and retreated to her spot on the chair beside the window, meeting his eyes briefly to send him a tight lipped smile.
She shut her eyes as the music started, encompassing guitar floated out of the speakers and embraced her like an old friend.
Sirius on the other hand snorted, "you don't have to go choosing old music on account of me" he muttered.
Hermione cracked an eye and examined him from across the room, "I happen to enjoy the Travelling Wilburys" she stated crossing her arms.
He smirked at her and let out a happy sigh. "We used to listen to this one at school. Up in the dorms we'd use hair brushes as microphones. I used to joke that that was the only time we'd ever seen Prongs hold a hair brush." his eyes had a far away look and Hermione smiled her first genuine smile in what felt like forever.
Sirius laughed, "James would always sing the George Harrison parts- ever the bleeding heart for Evans. Me and Moony would switch off on the Tom Petty and Bob Dylan and Pete-" his smile faltered, the sparkle in his eyes diminishing, "he would always take Orbison's parts" he finished lamely. He ran a hand though his hair and Hermione offered him a small smile and he returned it tightly.
"Those were the happiest days I had." Sirius sighed and reclined on the sill, looking thoughtful. "I hate to think how I would have ended up if I hadn't gone to school." He closed his eyes and Hermione took a deep breath.
"Harry Ron and I would sneak into the room of requirement sometimes, and I would require a clear warm night at my parent's cottage in France. We would sit outside around a camp fire and listen to music. Harry used to bring pockets full of unpopped popcorn and when one of us wasn't looking, usually Ron, he'd throw a few kernels in the fire and we would try to smack each other with them as they came popping out of the fire." Hermione laughed, "It sounds stupid but it's one of my favourite times.
Sirius grinned, "funny how what seems so insignificant can be so important later on."
Hermione nodded "precious." she agreed, and took a sip of whiskey.
Silence drew long between them as they both basked in old memories.
"So what brought you here today?" Sirius asked finally.
Hermione shrugged, "crap date, started to question my sanity and finally came here to settle things"
Sirius motioned at himself "Let me guess, still crazy?"
"Like a loon"
Sirius snorted, "what happened on this date?"
Hermione shrugged, "same as usual, they all know who I am. I'm Hermione Granger, genius of the Golden Trio. The expectations don't add up to the tired jaded woman that they are forced to share a meal with. Even if they manage to make it through the first few dates, eventually they give up watching me struggle to be normal." She shook her head, pushing escaped curls from her eyes.
"Guess it doesn't help that you see dead Godfathers now."
"Not really." Hermione smiled despite herself, she looked up at him catching pensive gray eyes with her chocolate brown ones. He was wearing dark jeans and a red button up with a soft black leather jacket. His feet were bare and she watched his toes flex against the aged wooden floors.
"It's nice to see you though Sirius." she stated quietly. For the first time that day she realized she wasn't feeling that tremendous pressure she usually felt in her chest, and she felt her shoulders ease. Something about being in the company of someone who had no expectations of her was very comforting, despite the fact that he was a figment of her imagination.
Breathing a weary sigh Hermione crossed the room and pulled a stamp sized packet out of the back pocket of her jeans. She set it carefully beside her bike helmet and wandlessly engorgioed it.
"Time for something new." she stated lifting the needle. The Wilburys stopped and she placed the new record on the player with a smile. "These guys are new, and I have to admit, they've become a bit of an obsession." she glanced at Sirius who was looking at her expectantly.
"I think you'll like them."
The music started hard and fast, sounding like Bruce Springstien with a dash of punk rock.
Sirius sat up, "what are they called?"
"The Gaslight Anthem" Hermione answered walking back to the window again. The night air was like a balm. They listened in silence as it washed over her for what seemed like ages. The music speaking to her in a way words never seemed to be able to.
"You're going to tell me to stop coming here." Hermione said breaking the silence as the record prompted that it was to be flipped over.
She glanced at him. He was examining the lion's head ring on his finger. Feeling her eyes on him he glanced up, meeting them with his own. Finally he shrugged and ran his hands through his hair, standing and pacing on the cold wooden floors "I know I should. Just like you know you shouldn't be here, and trust me when I say I would rather not be spending more time in this house." He stated motioning disdainfully.
"But..." Hermione prompted watching him move back and forth.
Sirius stopped pacing, "but you seem like you need this..."
He grinned at her cocked eyebrow, "minus the thinking that you're crazy part," he amended, "and frankly I've been enjoying our nights together."
"I-is death that lonely?" Hermione asked, her face falling.
Sirius shrugged, "I don't really have much memory of it... but then, maybe I wouldn't." he shoved his hands in his pockets. "I don't know how to think about the possibility of being something your memory conjured up," he wrinkled his forehead, "I've been trying not to think about it."
"I'm sorry Sirius."
He shrugged it off, "I don't really think it's intentional love, the girl I knew was far more logical to make up such a vivid memory multiple times just to make herself feel better."
Hermione nodded, but wasn't so sure, what if that had changed too?
He walked lightly across the room and into the swath of moonlight. He hadn't changed a day since she had seen him when he was alive.
If she as honest with herself she had always found him attractive, even when he was on the run with that constant gleam of hunger lingering behind his eyes, but now, cleaned up, at ease and closer to her age, he was incredibly handsome.
He held himself with the poise of someone brought up in a wealthy family, but with none of the ego that came with it. He stretched languidly, his shirt lifting slightly as his tattooed arms reached above his head, showing off his lean muscular form.
He turned towards her and caught her staring. His eyes twinkled with good humour as he sent her a grin, "like what you see love?"
She snorted, taking a sip of whiskey and trying to play it off "Course. I made you up didn't I?"
He barked a laugh, "I wonder if I can transform into my more attractive form?" his eyes suddenly going mischievous.
All of a sudden there was a great giant black dog prancing about the attic. His tongue lolled out of his mouth, his tail wagged like mad.
Hermione couldn't keep her stoic calm and started laughing "Snuffles! It's been a long time! She exclaimed, she went to give him a scratch behind the ears but stopped short. Padfoot did too with a sad whine.
He changed back in the blink of an eye and sent her a small shrug. "Sorry" he stated looking wistful.
Her eyes stung, "me too." she glanced out the window. Dawn was a pink blush on the horizon, out of the corner of her eye she saw him follow her gaze.
"You probably shouldn't come back" he whispered not meeting her gaze. She waited, her moss brown eyes hitting silver orbs filled with regret and… something she feared she held in her own eyes as well.
"Probably not" she agreed. She watched his slow blink, the only indication of his disappointment showed outwardly, although his head was nodding in agreement.
Her heart heart twinged painfully, "But I will be."
He blinked, confusion clouding his face, then what could only be read as relief.
"I'm having too much fun." she stated, gathering her things quickly. He was shaking his head in disagreement when she turned around but she held up a hand, grinning as dawn touched his form and he faded from view.
"I wish we had saved you" she whispered before pulling the needle off of the record player and apparating to the street.