Wedlocked
Chapter 27: Holiday Calm
The month before Christmas holidays certainly kept the sixth years on their toes, Hermione more than any of them. In addition to her NEWT level classes and homework – with further assignments for extra credit – she had Prefect rounds and meetings in preparation for the train ride to London. That would have been easily managed were it not for Sirius.
Most every other husband who was not living in the castle was content with letters, Floo calls and weekly visits in the village. Sirius, however, was pained to be considered average. Once he had proven that he was capable of sneaking into the castle undetected, he did so at least twice a week. Hermione thought it was just to continue proving that he could, but he started ambushing her when she least expected it. Every time insisting that it was for her own good and that she needed to keep aware of the dangers they faced outside the castle.
She failed to see how being ravished in various and assorted cupboards, classrooms and corridors (and once in the Prefect washroom) helped her fight off Death Eaters, but the point seemed lost on Sirius.
Truthfully, she suspected he simply wanted to expedite the removal of all sensible, white, cotton underpants from her wardrobe so that she would have nothing left but the lacy knickers Ginny had given her. Were that the case, it was mission accomplished. As she packed her trunk, she was amazed that she had absolutely no underwear other than the seductive lace pair at the very back of the drawer and the simple cotton pair on her body.
"That man is such a git," Hermione muttered as she closed the trunk and locked it.
"Didn't Shakespeare have a line about a woman denying the truth too much?" questioned Ginny absently as she flipped through one of the books Hermione had not found the time to retransgifure back into its proper form.
"Shakespeare has a line about everything, that's why he's Shakespeare," she retorted. "And you would be annoyed too if someone kept stealing all your pants."
"He nicks your knickers?" the girl grinned. "So cute."
"It is not cute!" Hermione frowned. "It is irritating and childish, and I wish he would stop it. I'm visiting my parents over the holiday and I will not spend Christmas without underwear in their house."
Ginny snorted and dodged the pillow Hermione hurled at her.
"Get out if that's all the help you're going to be!" Hermione huffed and carried her trunk down to the common room where the whole of Gryffindor was packed up and waiting for Professor McGonagall to give them warnings about using magic outside of school and being careful of trouble and all those things she always warned them about so sternly. With final pre-emptive admonitions out of the way, Hermione pulled herself to her full height and started her Prefect duties.
"First years," she called and assembled an orderly line of young Gryffindors. She led them through the castle and down to the village. Hagrid joined her at the gate and walked with her the whole way to Hogsmeade Station, talking about his plans to use Nifflers to aerate a new bed for vegetables as soon as the ground thawed. The conversation was so light and pleasant, she easily forgot that he was not there simply for friendship but as a deterrent to attacks. He stood with her while she saw the first years onto the waiting Hogwarts Express and waved at her from the platform until the train steamed off.
One train ride devoid of anything more serious than a badly executed Jelly-Legs Jinx later and Hermione was ushering the first years in groups of twos and threes through the barrier between Platform 9 ¾ and Muggle King's Cross. Ron stood beside her, prodding the slower kids and Slytherins.
"Keep moving once you reach the other side," she reminded them. "Others are waiting their turn behind you."
Ron grumbled and pushed at the line to get it moving. "Hurry it up, you lot!"
It took forever, but finally all the first years were through. Ron ran through the barrier and started shoving the smaller kids through the bustling train depot toward the doors and their waiting parents. Meanwhile, Hermione took the time to ensure all the other students made it safely through. It was as much a feeling of duty as wanting a mass of students to disappear into on the other side. Even though his sneak attacks inevitably resulted in kisses and sex, Sirius had managed to drum into her the importance of remaining vigilant; she knew there were Death Eaters among the waiting parents, and she would not make herself more vulnerable by wandering around alone.
"Ready?" asked Harry. He had waited beside her and aided her in pushing the last of the stragglers through the barrier, more help than some of her fellow Prefects.
"Yes," she said and took up the handle of her trunk.
"How many do you think will be there for us?" he grinned. "Sickle says it's five."
"But would Molly and Arthur count? They would have been here anyway," she questioned lightly, enjoying this playful spin on their guards. It was much easier to tolerate the idea of needing protection when Harry was around. He had been under the watchful eye of the Order of the Phoenix longer than she had, and with him cracking jokes and making wagers, it lightened the weight she felt of having so many people around solely to watch them.
"Okay," the boy said slowly, reconsidering his wager. "Three not counting them."
She thought about it. "Two in the station, two guarding the entrance and two on brooms."
His vibrant green eyes narrowed. "That's awfully specific. You wouldn't happen to have inside information, would you?"
"I've as much information as you and from the same source," she sniffed and marched herself through the brick pillar. The noise was deafening on the other side; it was always a shock returning to the modern Muggle world of intercoms, mobile phones and stereos, but Christmas time made it worse, all the artificial lights blinding her and pre-recorded carols bombarding her from every angle.
Harry took the lead, elbowing his way through the crowd, his Quidditch training coming in quite handy.
"Harry, dear!" Molly shouted, her warm voice recognisable even over the call to load the train on Platform 5. "There you are! We were starting to worry. Sirius has been frantic."
"I'm sure Remus and Tonks kept him calm," Harry commented as he grinned at Hermione and crossed his fingers for luck.
"Remus tried his best," Arthur nodded. "But he's had a right time of it."
"What about Tonks?"
"She's keeping watch out front with George," the man replied quietly.
Harry's shoulders slumped as he followed the Weasleys through King's Cross station. He had been wrong. All they needed was two guards in the sky and he would owe Hermione a Sickle.
"Just the two of them guarding the whole entrance?" Hermione inquired sweetly.
"They've got help from Fred, Moody and Kingsley," Arthur said absently as he craned his neck to peer above the crowd to find Sirius. With a wide wave of his arm, he caught the man's attention and turned his own back to Hermione. "What was I saying? Oh, they're flying Disillusioned."
"Damn," she muttered with a half-hearted stamp of her foot. "I was so close."
"Come along, then," Molly said, herding the four of them toward the exit.
It was slow going. They only managed three steps at a time before some mass of Muggles blocked their path. As they paused, stuck behind a large group of tourists, Hermione watched the crowd for signs of trouble and for Sirius. The less-than-merry crowd around them parted, making effortless passage for Sirius as he raced across the station to meet them. For all the impact his stature and presence had on the people around him, he offered them little attention. Watching his approach, Hermione wondered, and not for the first time, what it must be like to have that much sway over people with absolutely no effort at all.
"Where have you two been?" Sirius demanded in a voice so loud half the people in the station stopped to see what was happening. His words included Harry, but his eyes remained locked on hers. "You should have been off that train over an hour ago!"
Molly tried unsuccessfully to soothe him while Ron started complaining about 'bloody first years'; Sirius apparently heard neither of them. He held her eye, waiting for an adequate excuse.
"I'm a Prefect," Hermione replied. "I have duties to perform."
"Bollocks!" he scoffed. "Moony never took that long getting off the train when he was Prefect."
"Like you bothered paying attention," his friend commented, shoving the man with a force that only a friend could have gotten away with. "I recall you being far too concerned with AJ's br–"
"Yes! Thank you," Sirius interrupted, his eyes darting back to Hermione. "That's enough of your remembrances, Messer Lupin."
Hermione was rather intrigued by their banter and by Sirius's behaviour. If she had to go strictly by what she observed, she would have drawn the irrefutable conclusion that Sirius was afraid of what she thought. The last time his previous love affairs had come up, she had left him cold. Could he possibly think she would still react that way?
"Let's get out of here." He grabbed her hand and started pulling her toward the exit, his charisma making their escape easy.
Tonks, still brown and bland, met them out front. Without a word, she took Hermione's trunk and disappeared into a nearby alley. A sharp 'pop' told them that she had Disapparated. George did the same for Harry's trunk, though with considerably more joy and chatter.
"Am I not going in the car?" Harry asked, looking at the Ministry car waiting just down the street.
"Too far out of the way for them to drop you off," Sirius commented matter-of-factly. "They've got a four-hour drive ahead of them. They don't need it lengthened by even twenty minutes to get to my house." His lips crept upward as realisation of his meaning hit Harry.
"I'm staying with you…?" he said, his hopefulness coloured by doubt.
"Of course," he grinned and pulled Harry into a hug. He kept the boy close even as they walked the short distance to the Apparition spot around the corner of the building. "You joining us, Moony?"
"If there's room enough, I might spend the night," replied Remus, his smile genuine. He offered an arm to Hermione and brought them both safely to the doorstep of Number 12, Grimmauld Place.
"Welcome back!" James cried happily. "It's been so boring without you!"
Lily smiled. "Wait until you see what we've done with the place! You won't recognise it."
"I've never seen Padfoot work so hard on anything," James admitted. "It was a little scary, actually."
"Oi!" Sirius complained. "I thought we agreed you wouldn't go talking about me behind my back."
James just snorted in reply.
Sirius dropped his arm from about Harry's shoulder and glared at the painting.
"I think getting settled might be a good plan," Remus suggested helpfully. "They might be at it a while."
"Do they not get along?" Hermione asked, worried her gift was not panning out quite as she had hoped. Remus had said that Sirius often talked to himself, carrying on a conversation with his lost friend; she had thought that having an animated portrait for him to talk to might be at least a bit healthier, but if they were arguing, then perhaps she ought to find an alternative gift.
"As well as they ever did," Remus smiled. "They were like brothers, those two. James was the only one who could ever shrink Sirius's head, and vice versa. That didn't always lead to the friendliest of discussions."
"Oh," she said, glancing back and watching Sirius make an extremely rude hand gesture at the painting. "I guess that's all right, then."
She stopped abruptly as she came to her trunk. Tonks had deposited it at the foot of the stairs beside Harry's. The boy grabbed his trunk and ran up the stairs, confident and content in the knowledge that he had a room all his own. Hermione was not so lucky. The last time she had been in this house, she had been in her own room, but where was she supposed to sleep now? Were it just the two of them, she would assume her trunk belonged in Sirius's room. However, they were not alone. Harry was staying, too. What would he think of her sleeping in the same room with his Godfather?
Slowly climbing the stairs, she considered the two closed doors and the rooms that lay beyond.
It made little sense to sleep on her own. If Sirius's behaviour at Hogwarts was any indication, he would simply sneak in during the night. Staying with Sirius was far more logical. Still, she could not shake the concern for how Harry would react.
"You think too much," Sirius muttered with a chuckle.
"What? I was just—"
"Making a pros and cons list, probably," he smirked. "It isn't that complicated. You are my wife, you sleep with me."
"But Harry's here…" she whispered.
"He was in the castle, too," he replied.
"That was completely different. He was several floors away in a different tower."
Smirking, the man snatched the handle from her hand and took the trunk into his room. "I did not spend half the week making room in my closet for your clothes just for you to hide in another room."
"I wouldn't be hiding," she began snippily, but paused, "Did you really make room for me?"
As a reply, he opened the closet door and gestured for her to enter.
She had seen it only once before, on that morning she helped him dress to meet her parents; the shelves and rods had been filled to capacity with more clothes than one person might ever need. Now there was a space the size of half her childhood bedroom empty and waiting for her to fill it. Looking at his clothes, she was happy to see all the trousers she had rejected that day were gone. She felt a tiny glow of acceptance that he valued her opinion enough to remove the items from his wardrobe.
The awe was evident in her hushed voice as she responded to his efforts, "You didn't have to make that much room. I haven't that much."
He just smirked as if he would have something to say about that. "I'll leave you to it."
"Sirius wait," she said and dug into her trunk to find the item she had been meaning to give him. For all the time they spent together in the castle, she had never managed to present him with it, mainly due to Sirius insisting on surprisingly her when she was away from her dorm. The little box was easy to find in her organised trunk and she held it out for him.
"It isn't Christmas yet," he reminded her with a smile.
"This isn't that sort of gift," she replied. "This is more a belated wedding gift."
The corner of his mouth turned up in amusement as he took the present; opening the box, his mouth curved even more. "That's a blood diamond," he observed. "Does that mean you care about me?"
"Shut up and put it on," she ordered.
"But you do care."
"I care if you're attacked and die," she agreed. "I don't fancy having to explain to my parents why a grieving widow would choose to marry again thirty minutes after her first husband was buried."
His smile fell and he pushed the ring onto his finger. "There you go. Now you'll be able to plan for your second marriage without having to bother with making sure I'm dead."
"Git."
He turned without offering his customary comeback. She worried she might have offended him, but thought better of it. He was still being irritatingly honest with her, to the point of informing her when her breath smelled or a particular pair of shoes did nothing for her legs. If he was angry, he would have said, which meant that he was just giving her time to unpack. She was amazed that he was restraining himself; they were in his bedroom after all. Although, they would be spending every day and night together for the next two weeks, so it made sense that he would want to pace himself.
'Or,' she thought as she pulled her trunk into the closet and started organising her clothes on the hangers, 'perhaps he actually wants to spend time with you fully dressed.'
"That would be a nice change," she muttered with a smile.
Shelves filled and dresses hanging, she stepped from the room and ventured down the stairs, unsure what to expect. Harry, Sirius and Remus were talking with the Potters, who had come into the sitting-room and made themselves comfortable in the painting nearest the fire. Judging by Harry's excited hand gestures and James's pride-filled face, she gathered the boy was recounting one of his many Quidditch wins. Having attended the matches, she did not have much interest in the stories. Instead, she watched the men's reaction to them. Sirius had missed most of Harry's games and James all of them, so it was wonderful to see them so enthralled with his Quidditch-pitch heroics. As James began telling his own tales of the pitch, Hermione turned away.
She kicked off her shoes and settled down on the couch to read. Before she could reach for her book, Sirius walked over and lay back as if she were the world's most comfortable pillow. She waited for him to comment or make some odd joke about it, but he took up her book and opened to the page she had marked, holding it on his chest so that they could both read it.
It was hardly a reading position she was accustomed to, but she was not uncomfortable. Quite the opposite, in fact; Sirius felt like a heavy, warm blanket.
"Turn the page," she said.
"I'm not done yet," he said absently and continued reading until he finished then turned the page.
Three times she reached the end of the second page and requested he turn it only to have to wait. He read far too slowly for her liking, but he was in control of the book. It took a great deal of effort to slow her pace to match his; the payoff came when she reached the end of the page just as he turned it. They read together for some time as Remus, Harry and James continued to talk.
During a lull in the conversation, Hermione was sure she felt eyes on her. She glanced up just as Harry dropped his gaze, a slight smile on his face.
"You know," Lily whispered quietly from a nearby frame, "when James makes that particular smile it means he's quite happy."