Blackbird Fly
Chapter Eighteen
The Hogwarts Express came two days later to take the students for Christmas, and among their ranks were Sirius, Isolde, Severus and Hermione. They stood nervously, huddled and shivering at the station in Hogsmeade as Sirius returned, floating four cups of cocoa for them with his wand. They each took one gratefully, though Severus required a bit of prodding from the rest of them, though the cold eventually overtook his pride.
The train ride proved to be a great deal of fun once Hermione had suggested a rousing game of "Never Have I Ever."
"The rules are simple," Hermione said as the group listened. "Each person raises their hands, and each finger counts as one. If someone says something that you've done, put one down. First person with all their fingers down loses." She had hoped that this would be a good way to get some less common and easy-to-learn information on Isolde Chase, as well as have a good laugh. She resolved herself to commit it all to memory as best she could.
Isolde started. "Never have I ever fantasized about one of my professors."
Isolde raised her eyebrows and everyone had a laugh when Hermione, Severus and Sirius each put down one finger. "You've got to spill. All of you," she added warningly when Severus opened his mouth to protest. You first, Helene."
"Well," Hermione said, embarrassed as she remembered Professor Snape, Professor Lupin and of course, Gilderoy Lockhart. "They taught at my old school."
"They?" Severus added, his eyes suspicious.
She blushed. "There were three of them. I'm pretty ashamed about the one of them." Hermione then recounted some of the escapades caused by Lockhart in her second year. "Thank Merlin the poor man obliviated himself with a bad wand."
"I don't even think I want to know," Sirius murmured to Isolde, squeezing her thigh. "Crazy French men."
"What about you?" Hermione accused, turning to Sirius and narrowing her eyes.
"Professor Sinistra, o' course, though not recently," Sirius said, casting a side-long glance at Isolde.
"Severus?" Hermione asked, poisonously sweet.
He mumbled something, prompting her to say, "What?" repeatedly until he nearly shouted, "Professor Sprout!"
There was absolute silence until they all burst into laughter as Severus fumed and blushed and scowled and rambled. Hermione managed to stop his babbling with a smiling kiss, at which point he calmed down and said, glaring at Isolde, "Never have I ever set my two best friends up on a date because I wanted them to date!"
Sirius looked around confusedly until Hermione explained the situation to him and he looked away, making Severus interrogate him further.
"Well, erm . . . I made the costume shop owner think that Zelda and I were dating before the Ball so that I could surprise her with a matching costume for the Ball so that I wouldn't have to ask her unless someone else did because I was scared to."
"That's a little creepy, but I'll take it," Isolde said, laughing as she leaned on Sirius's shoulder. He draped an arm over her and smiled as he kissed the top of her head.
"Never have I ever," Sirius began slowly. He paused for a moment before declaring triumphantly, "Never have I ever been a Slytherin!"
"Never have I ever been a Gryffindor!" countered Hermione, feeling momentarily guilty for a moment. But, she rationalized; Helene Fermier was a Slytherin, not Hermione Granger.
The game kept them occupied for the length of the ride until they had to change into Muggle clothes. Isolde lost, saving her left middle finger for the end. It kept them entertained as they told stories and laughed at one another's blunders, leading to a very confused trolley witch, as several references to Isolde and a box of chocolate frogs were made, much to the amusement of everyone but the poor witch.
Once the train had stopped, the four teenagers stepped out of their happy compartment and Isolde began scanning the crowd.
"Do you see them?" Severus asked, feeling a bit nauseous.
"Not ye—"
Isolde was cut off as a large man with dark hair and dark eyes grabbed her from behind; she screamed a little before she broke down in giggles as she had seen the face of her assailant. "Seriously, Matthew? That was necessary?"
He backed away a little, but his face was serious. "It is when someone's a terrible correspondent. . ."
"By someone, he means himself," Isolde whispered theatrically to Sirius, who was holding her hand lightly.
Matthew smiled again as Isolde went and hugged him, introducing him as her older brother before asking, "Where're Mum and Doc?"
"They sent me to come get you and your friends. I'm glad to see that they're real this time," he joked. "They have names, too, or should I just address them as 'you?'"
"I'm Helene."
"My name is Severus."
"Sirius Black."
"You're joking, right? That's an adjective, not a name," Matthew said, sure that Sirius was pulling his leg.
"Tell my Mum, Walburga, that, then," Sirius responded, making Matthew guffaw in disbelief.
Isolde smiled. The two were officially friends.
The ride in her parents' VW bus was little more than a nap for the four teenagers, who, once their luggage had been tossed into the back of the bus, had piled in and collapsed, exhausted and content, onto a pile of pillows and blankets that Isolde's parents had placed there for long journeys, as there were no back passenger seats in the bus. Severus and Helene were spread out in the center or the van, spooned together; Isolde was laying against one the driver's seat, Sirius's head resting in the crook of her shoulder. Matthew glanced back at the sleepers every so often as he drove, smiling gently at Hermione and Severus and scowling a little as Isolde and Sirius, wondering why she hadn't mentioned her new boyfriend.
"Wake up, you lot! We're here!" Matt called happily, stirring the four from their nap. Severus threw an arm over his eyes when the trunk opened, blocking the light from his eyes as the others grabbed their bags and headed for the pleasant looking house, Isolde leading the way.
Her house was not palatial by any means, but it was comfortably large enough for a family of four and whatever guests they would have. It was open and airy, though most of the furniture was Victorian antiques mixed with modern art and design. A thin, blonde woman appeared out of a kitchen that smelled like baking biscuits, and she approached Isolde with open arms.
"Mum, I've missed you so much!" cried Isolde, hugging her mother tightly and closing her eyes.
"I've missed you too, Isolde," her mother replied, pulling away from her daughter and cupping her chin with one hand. "Look at those eyes of yours now—very sharp! I've never seen anything like them. How did it happen?"
"It was the ring you sent me . . . I actually wound up putting on a little show in the Great Hall, but I'll tell you about that later. Where's Doc?"
"He's got work until eight, but he wishes he could be here, and he says hello," her mother answered, throwing an arm around Isolde's shoulders and squeezing. "Now, these are your friends?"
The three other teenagers followed the sounds of the voices, and peeked around a corner to see what was going on. Isolde's mother was a thin woman with pretty blonde hair and pale brown eyes. She seemed to be the near-antithesis to Molly Weasley, but there was that same aura of warmth and love around her. She was a bit younger than they'd expected, too; she couldn't have been much older than thirty-five, though Matthew was around twenty years old. They assumed Isolde would explain later.
"Let me guess," her mother said as the teenagers filed into a single line with Isolde and Matthew each taking an end. She extended a hand to Hermione, saying, "I can only hope that you are Helene Fermier. And you," she continued, turning to Severus, "could only be Severus, unless you're Sirius and the name was meant for your personality." She laughed a little at her own joke.
Sirius stepped forward. "I'm Sirius, madam, and I must say that my mother was completely wrong as far as the more . . . obvious meaning goes." He didn't bother to add that it did make sense in the fact that his Animagus form was a large black dog.
"It's a pleasure to meet all of you, and please, call me Donna." Isolde's mother shook his hand and Severus's before checking the biscuits baking in the oven. "Go on down and put your things in Isolde's room while the biscuits cool," she said, taking them out of the oven and placing them on the counter.
"Follow me!" Isolde called, slinging her bag over her shoulder as best she could (it was rather large) and leading them to a door just off the main hallway. "My room is in the basement," she explained, flicking on the lights as they went.
Her room here had the same loft bed that they remembered from school shoved into a corner of the room, but everything else—so far as they could tell—was rather different; the room was grand, taking up the whole of the basement, at least from what they could tell. The ceiling was painted a dark, beautiful grey and the walls were like an art gallery: one wall had a mural of Millais' Ophelia, a beautiful frame painted to surround it. Another wall had Picasso's Guitarist; the other walls accented the paintings, both a shade of a pale blue-grey. There was a little platform in one of the corners, a set of drums near the wall and a microphone and speaker system installed, ready to use.
"Once I turned of age, I came down here and had a redecorating party. It was amazing to see how much easier it was to do with a wand. Anyway, we're all to stay down here; I have my own bathroom and that's the stage over there. I hope you're all okay with this." Isolde grinned at them before Transfiguring the loft bed into a four-poster, queen sized bed, piled high with pillows and blankets and the like. "Any preferences, you two?" she asked, turning to Hermione and Severus.
"Excuse me?" Hermione asked, a bit confused.
"I had assumed you two would want to share a bed," Isolde replied placidly. "My parents won't mind; they're ex-beatniks, ex-hippies—you know the type. Besides, an Imperturbable Charm is all you need, and there's plenty of space for us to dress in the morning. It'll be fine, so long as you two don't shag like bunnies the whole time we're here."
Isolde took a chair from against the wall and neatly Transfigured it into another four-poster, queen sized bed for Hermione and Severus to share. "Is that all right, then?"
Severus nodded once before they headed back upstairs, eager for the promised biscuits, especially if they were chocolate chip.
Isolde's father brought home pizzas for dinner that evening when he returned from his job working as a professor of American and European history at Cambridge University. He barely had time to put the boxes on the counter before Isolde ran to hug him.
He smoothed her hair down and hugged her tightly. "I missed you, lady. How's school?"
"Well enough, I guess. How are you doing, Doc?"
"Good, good. Now, would you mind introducing me to your friends?" he asked, looking over the rag-tag group of teenage wizards congregated in his kitchen.
"Erm . . . right," Isolde said, blushing a little. "This is Helene—she's new to Hogwarts this year—and this is Severus—he's in Slytherin like me and Helene—and this is Sirius, a Gryffindor and my . . ." The next word was indecipherable.
"Your what, Isolde? I didn't hear that," her mother said, smiling a knowing smile.
"My boyfriend," Isolde repeated, continuing to blush prettily.
"Like that was hard to tell," Matt chuckled, watching Sirius take Isolde's hand covertly.
"Hush up, you," Isolde hissed as her parents began serving the pizza and pouring drinks, Hermione offering whatever help she could. Severus took a seat at the table, his back ramrod straight.
"Relax, my young friend. Take a break and relax," Matt said, clapping a hand on his shoulder and laying a plate of pizza in front of him.
The corners of Severus's mouth twitched slightly. Matt decided to consider that a smile and began digging into his pizza, folding the crust in half and savoring the first bite. Severus looked at his plate, bewildered as to the proper eating of pizza; he looked around the table as the rest of them ate, relieved to see that Sirius looked just as awkward, for a rather pleasant change.
Isolde noticed their discomfort, and after a sip of her water, picked up her pizza in a rather exaggerated motion and ate it, emphasizing the use of her hands. Severus caught on and followed suit once he was certain that the eating of pizza truly was done with the hands, but Sirius just sat stubbornly, watching everyone else it in amazement, so foreign was the idea of eating with hands.
"Sirius, are you all right?" Donna asked bemusedly, watching the young man glare at the food on his plate. "Is there something else you would like?"
"That's not it at all," he replied, lowering his eyes in embarrassment. "I don't know what pizza is, and I've never eaten anything with my hands. It's just not done in my family."
Isolde caught on quickly. "Pureblood thing, right?"
"Yeah," Sirius said gratefully. "My family is entirely magical, aside from a few Squibs here and there. We don't do Muggle things like this."
"Would you like some silverware?" Isolde's father asked.
"No, I want to do this the right way," Sirius answered, picking his pizza up in both hands, glancing around the table. "This is the right way, isn't it?"
The others nodded, watching as Sirius took his first bite of pizza, his eyes widening as he tasted it, savoring the flavor. "That's . . . that's great, that is."
By the time dinner had ended, each of the pizzas had been completely eaten.
The four Hogwarts students went to their shared bedroom after dinner, sitting around a low table like the one in Isolde's dormitory, playing a game of poker and using the left over chocolate chips from the biscuits Donna had made earlier to bet with.
"So . . .," Sirius began awkwardly, looking over his cards and playing with the chips in his bowl. "They seem . . . nice."
"They are, aren't they?" Isolde said happily, placing her cards back on the table and pushing them towards Hermione, who was acting as dealer. She wouldn't continue the hand for a pair of fours and no face high.
"Matt doesn't look anything like your mother," Hermione commented, trying to decide if she would continue to play. Severus's smirk didn't look too promising. She was, frankly, regretting the fact that she taught him how to play Texas Hold 'Em. He was too damn good at the game.
"They aren't related, actually. Doc lived with Matt and his first wife in the States until she died in a car accident. He got a job offer from Cambridge and met Mum and they got married. I think Mum and I bonded over not being related to anyone in our family," Isolde said, smiling wistfully. "We go back to America every so often to visit my grandparents in New York City. I love it there."
Severus raised the bet, hoping Sirius wouldn't call his bluff, as he had little more than a pair of eights and a king high. At Hermione's signal, he laid down his cards, swearing a little as Sirius took the piles of chocolate chips from the middle of the table, as he'd had three of a kind.
Isolde rolled her eyes and took the cards from Hermione, dealing them out quickly. "So, what would you all like to do for tomorrow? Matt told me that there would be a discount show at the movies tomorrow."
"What movie are they showing?" Hermione asked. She remembered watching some of his movies in her time when they would air on cable.
"I think that they are showing The Who's Tommy, since Keith Moon died this year and he was a fantastic musician, at least in my opinion. Besides, he owned a little hotel near here for a while and I thought we could make a day of it; you know, do some shopping, go to the movies—that sort of thing. Are you interested?" she asked, addressing the group.
Severus, who hadn't been to the cinema in years, shrugged and nodded curtly, saying nothing as he continued to examine his cards. Sirius jumped at the chance to go to the cinema again, having gone once with the Marauders and Lily during their fifth year to see a film called Monty Python and the Holy Grail. It had, until recently, been one of the greatest things he'd ever seen.
They continued to play, planning their day tomorrow as they did so and groaning as Severus repeatedly decimated them, though he was kind enough to share his chocolate chips once the game had ended.
Isolde pulled on the pajamas she wore during the winter—a tank top and a pair of loose lounge pants—quickly before brushing her teeth and washing her face, hoping to be out of the bathroom as fast as possible to allow someone else a chance to use it.
Sirius was already dressed and ready for bed when she returned to her room, reclining against the headboard of her bed, wearing only a pair of black boxer shorts. He patted the spot next to him on the bed, and she found that she was only too happy to fill it. Isolde leapt into bed, pouncing at him as he laughed full and loud, tickling her sides lightly.
"Oy!" they heard from behind the curtains of the other bed. "Imperturbable Charm, please! I don't believe that either of us wishes to hear your sordid doings over there!"
"Sorry, Severus!" Isolde called back, closing the hangings around the bed. "Just make sure you do the same!" She giggled a little before casting the charm and lighting her wand, sticking it to one of the bed posts using a charm. Sirius followed suit, sticking his to the bedpost opposite hers before he leaned against the headboard and opened his arms to her.
Isolde climbed into them gratefully, realizing for the first time that this was their first time touching so . . . intimately. They had shared a bed before, but she had never seen him so naked. He smelled like spice and a stick of opium-scented incense that she had smelled once as a child, but not in an overwhelming way. His scent made her smile. She reached up to kiss his neck softly, barely more than a whisper of her lips over his skin, but he felt it just the same, and pulled her closer for a kiss goodnight.
Hermione and Severus kissed languidly in the sanctuary of their four-poster (once Severus had warded and charmed it to within an inch of its life), his hands finding their way down her back and cupping her bum. She whimpered a little when she felt him digging into her stomach, but it felt so right . . . so delicious. Hermione slid her hands under the waistband of his pants, cupping him and caressing him with her thumb.
He pulled away, raising an eyebrow at her. "Don't start something you are unprepared to finish, witch."
Hermione grinned at him and slid down his body, stopping at the bulge between his legs. Severus watched intently, trying to figure her next move. Pausing for only a brief moment, she smiled before tugging his pants and boxers down to place a kiss on his hardened cock. His sharp intake of breath told Hermione to keep going, and she did, kissing her way down and back up his length, licking the top like a lolly once she was done. His eyes were shut tight; his hands fisted in the sheets and, out of kindness, Hermione slithered back up his body and kissed him hard on the mouth.
Grateful that he wouldn't be forced to lower himself to the level of inexperienced schoolboy (never mind that he was one), he spooned her into him, sliding his hands to remove her panties and cup her breasts, guiding himself into her from behind, fucking her as slowly as he could, slowly building their pleasure until they shuddered into sleep.
He would talk to her tomorrow—someday, for a Slytherin know that tomorrow is another day.