Chapter 14: The Look

After only a few moments alone, Hermione decided she could not stay up in her room like some helpless princess in a tower. That was not her style.

"Tonks?" she asked, knocking on the door to Remus and Tonks' bedroom. "Are you there?"

"She's down in the kitchen, Hermione," said Remus as he slowly climbed up the stairs.

"How's it going in there?" she asked, peering towards the library below.

"Your guess is as good as mine."

Blushing, Hermione wrapped her arms around her torso. "I'm sorry you got tangled up in all this. And I'm very sorry about anything you heard last night."

"Last night?" asked Remus, his face completely neutral. "I don't know what you mean."

"Oh," said Hermione, rather surprised. Maybe Remus was a much deeper sleeper than she had thought. "So, you didn't—?"

"Never heard a thing." The smile he gave her was entirely kind. "I think Dora's making tea."

"Do you want a cup?"

"Yes, but use a warming charm if you don't mind. I won't have anything until after they're finished."

Nodding, Hermione made her way down the stairs and past the closed library door. She thought she could hear Harry's voice and then the words 'my best friend.' A part of her wanted to open the door and speak for herself, but she decided against it.

For now.

Hurrying down the hall, she found Tonks already sitting at the kitchen table, watching the hot tea pour itself into three mugs.

"Milk?" asked the older witch.

"Always. Thank you."

They sat together, saying nothing.

Finally, Tonks looked over, a grin teasing the corners of her mouth. "So… anything happen last night?"

"Tonks, you're incorrigible."

They both giggled.

"We can get to whatever Harry saw in a minute, but first: how was it?"

Hermione closed her eyes, indulging in the memories of Sirius from the night before – not just the sex, but being with him. Dancing, talking, fighting, teasing, sharing the same food, sharing the same thoughts… and then everything that had happened in her room after he had kissed her.

"It was incredible."

"Lucky Hermione," mumbled Tonks, smiling down into her own mug.

"But it's still… complicated."

"With you two involved? I'm shocked."

"In fact," said Hermione, choosing her words carefully, "I think I may need to get away for a few days."

Tonks looked up, concerned. "Are you running?"

"Not entirely."

"Where to?"

"My parents' house or maybe Luna's place in the country. I'm not sure." Hermione gripped her tea mug, warming her hands. "A lot happened last night. Many things were said before we got back here. He's worried – and that was before Harry walked in."

"That must have been… memorable?"

"I think we scarred him for life."

Tonks did her best not to laugh. "That lightning bolt has nothing on my cousin. Harry was only a baby for the first one, but Naked Sirius… that horror won't fade with time."

Hermione giggled again. "You are so bad."

Their shared laughter was suddenly interrupted by a horrible crash from the library. More loud thumps and smashing sounds followed. Both women were on their feet and running, but by the time they reached the hallway, Remus was already down the stairs and inside the room. Tonks held Hermione back, not letting the younger witch get beyond the stairs.

"Let me go!" Hermione hissed.

"No. Let Remus handle this. Trust me."

They waited, but then Hermione felt she was hearing too much.

"Go ahead! That doesn't change the fact that you should NOT be with her!"

"You don't know what the fuck you're talking about, boy!"

"You don't deserve her!"

"I KNOW THAT!"

"Oh, shit," swore Tonks, increasing her grip on Hermione's arms. She leaned in very close and whispered in her ear. "Get upstairs. Now. Go."

"What?"

"Go!"

Hermione knew more was transpiring behind her as she ran up the staircase. It felt wrong to go too far away without knowing what had happened.

In the end, she didn't have to wait long to find out.


"Why aren't you upstairs?"

Sirius blinked warily as Hermione met him on the second-floor landing.

Her hand came up to her mouth as she looked up him and down. "I was with Tonks. Gods. What happened?"

Opening his arms, he gave her a full view of his battle scars.

"Harry hit you?"

"And I hit him," muttered Sirius.

"You what?! Why?"

"It's done."

"I'm going to him." Hermione moved to go downstairs and he panicked.

"No! Absolutely not!"

"Sirius! Get out of my way."

He felt riled and tired, but, more than that, he was starting to feel quite ashamed of himself. Had he really just been brawling with Harry?

"'Mione, please, don't. Not until he's calmed down. Besides, I need to talk to you."

"Good. I want to talk to you, too." She took his hand. "Come with me."

"Where are we going?" he asked, rather surprised at her sudden take-charge attitude as she led him up the stairs.

"You need to get cleaned up. Come."

Two minutes later, Hermione had him sitting on the lip of the tub in their bathroom, dabbing at his cuts and looking carefully for any breaks that needed her wand.

She did not look pleased.

Despite that, Sirius still enjoyed every time that she touched him. She was so pretty. He always thought of her as brilliant and sexy – Harry had almost punched him for saying so – but she could also be pretty. Winsome. Fetching. Fine.

"I've never been into the healer role-play, myself," he said lightly, "but it might have possibilities."

Her mouth pulled to one side. "Do you really want to flirt with me right now?"

Grabbing her hand, he squeezed her fingers, losing himself briefly in her deep, brown eyes. "I will always want to flirt with you. It's the air I breathe."

"Hold still."

Hermione held his chin and turned his face this way and that under the light. "I don't think there's anything I can do about that bruise. The scrapes on your hands should be better tomorrow. If he'd broken your nose, I'd know how to fix that."

"Sorry to disappoint, but I think this is more than enough."

Crossing her arms, Hermione leaned back against the sink, her eyes narrowing. "What's wrong with you, Sirius? Fisticuffs with your own godson? Yes, he walked in on us having sex. That's embarrassing, but why would you ever beat him to a pulp over it?"

"He's not pulp," Sirius mumbled. "He actually held his own fairly decently."

"What's that?"

"Look, I didn't start it! He threw the first punch… and the second. I was defending myself. Mostly."

"In case you're blind," she seethed, "I'm really not happy about this."

"Understatement?" he hedged.

"Oh, yes. I'd yell a lot more, but you look too pathetic at the moment. And if you're like this, I don't even want to imagine how Harry is." He felt her eyes roving all over him. "What in the world could he have said that would make you hit back?"

"It doesn't matter."

"Yes, it does. Tell me."

He didn't say anything.

"Sirius Black, you tell me right now, or so help me, I'll set so many hexes on you, you won't be able to walk for a week."

She would, too.

"Be honest with me. How bad was it?" she asked.

Sirius' eyes slid from her face down to the bathroom tiles. "Well," he began, "once we got past child molestation and statutory rape—"

"What?!"

Sirius gave her a look that said it all. Then he continued: "After that, his main gripes seemed to be the age difference, which is none of his business, your shattered innocence, which is none of his business, and the fact that I'm a depraved lothario who shags everyone in sight."

"That is absolutely ridiculous," Hermione scoffed.

"You think so?"

"You haven't even shagged everyone in this house! Tonks is family for Merlin's sake."

"True," he said wryly, "incest was not on today's arrest warrant."

"And Remus."

He kept his eyes on the spot where the floor tiles met the wall.

"Sirius? Did you hear me? You never slept with Re—" Hermione stopped abruptly. A startled look lit up her eyes. "Really? It's true?"

"How does everyone know to ask about that?" he griped. Looking up, he caught her eye. "Do you want me to tell you?"

"Yes! Good goddess, yes!"

"Too bad. I don't kiss and tell," said Sirius primly.

His eyes drank her in as she re-crossed her arms, doing her best not to laugh.

His ploy almost worked – but not for long.

Drawing a slow breath, the stubborn line came back to her jaw. "Be that as it may, it doesn't change the fact that I'm absolutely appalled about what you did to Harry." She shook her head and sighed. "Come on, let's go. I don't want to keep talking about this in the loo."

Once they were back in her room, Sirius leaned gingerly against her desk. His body ached from the fight. Losing your touch, old man, he thought. He then looked at her bed, torturing himself with flashes of how good the sex had been.

Hermione was still angry. She kept fidgeting around the room, not settling – not letting him start to speak. She took an extra moment to straighten the bedclothes.

"Love, please. Give it a rest, yeah?"

"All right," said Hermione, giving the covers one last, sharp tug. Standing up straight, she rested her hands on the back of her hips.

"Hermione," he began. "About last night. It was—"

Her tone was suddenly edgy. "What?"

"Sensational," he declared, his voice warm and deep. "Earth-shattering. Unforgettable. But it hasn't solved anything. You do know that, right? If anything, I've gone and made things more complicated – again. I'm the same wreck I was before I kissed you."

"Kissed me?"

"I was being discreet," he huffed.

"Since when? Remus just had to break up a brawl we could hear from the other end of the house."

"Are you really that shocked about the fight?" he asked.

"Yes! I am!" she fired back. "You and Harry love each other. Violence is never an answer. You let your temper get away from you – and worse, I think you enjoyed it."

"I have a temper," he said flatly. "I never said I didn't."

"I'm not saying Harry was in the right," said Hermione crisply. "It sounds like he was being just as ridiculous as you were."

"He wouldn't listen! He just assumed I'd shag you and drop you. He completely ignored me when I said I hadn't been with Aurora."

She watched him, but didn't say anything.

Sirius continued, "He was being all righteous, making judgements about who you can have sex with, deciding flat out what was best for you. Not giving you any say in the matter. Merlin knows I love that boy, but he was being a presumptuous little twerp. He just… wouldn't listen."

Hermione kept looking at him, saying nothing.

"What? What is it?" he asked.

"Do you hear yourself?" she asked softly. "You were right to tell him off for thinking you had done anything to me years ago. That was unworthy of him, and I'll have something to say to him about that myself. But the rest of it? Sirius, you were out with Professor Sinistra, and you have a history of not staying with any witch for very long. You've spent the last week flirting with me and then freezing me out. You're doing it again, right now! But do you honestly not see the bigger problem here?"

"Apparently not!" he sniped, crossing his arms.

"You're being the worst kind of hypocrite. You're doing exactly what you accused Harry of: you're making decisions for me – telling me what to do – expecting me to go along with whatever you say because you've made up your mind that you're 'bad' for me." Her face was full of disdain. "If Harry's being arrogant, I wonder where he gets it from?"

Sirius felt aghast. His mouth fell open. "It's not the same thing at all!"

"Isn't it?" she pressed. "Why don't you just say it? You're scared! You're completely afraid of what this was! Of what this could be!"

"And you're not? Merlin, 'Mione, when I get close to people, everyone gets hurt – and it's usually my fault."

"That's not true and you know it."

He snorted, his eyes narrowing. "Fine. I have a bad reputation with witches. I never pretended otherwise. In fact, that's one of the reasons I told you not to be with me. I don't do relationships. I don't do 'mornings after.' I've never wanted to. There's never been any point."

Hermione shook her head, her hair moving in the sunlight.

"Sirius," she asked softly, "when are you going to grow up? You're not eighteen anymore. This isn't Hogwarts. You don't need new notches on your bedpost every week to prove anything about yourself!"

He wasn't sure where this had been going, but he certainly hadn't expected that. "You can't say I didn't warn you about what I'm like."

"But is that really you?" she countered.

He didn't know what to say to that.

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "Do you know what I hear when you say you're a 'disaster' or you don't deserve me?" she asked. "A man-child making excuses. We already went over all of this at dinner. So, if you're still saying the same tired lines to me now, even after we were together, even after punching out your godson because you got caught in bed with me—"

"We weren't in the bed," he muttered.

"—then this is really about something else. If you're not scared because it meant too much, then you must be scared because..."

His words took on more urgency as hers drifted away, her eyes growing slightly unfocused. "'Mione, look at me. I am reckless. I was when I started kissing you last night and I was again downstairs just now. This punch-up with Harry – it's just more proof. I'm still dangerous. I'm still a walking caution. And I'm still—"

Completely in love with you.

Sirius caught himself before the words came out, but they flooded his mind, echoing and re-echoing inside of him.

Suffering Circe, where did that come from?

Hermione waited, looking more worried by the second. "Still…?"

He didn't have words yet. His brain was stuffed with cotton.

I'm in love with you.

I'm in love with you.

With a dry mouth, Sirius fought for air, totally flummoxed. "Still… um… still needing to sort myself out… for a bit."

He knew she was watching him so he did his best to cover the shock overwhelming him, but some of it must have bled through.

Hermione went very white. "Oh, I see." She spoke very slowly as she gazed at nothing. "I see what this is. Of course. You can stop with the pretence, Sirius. It took me a while, but I get it now."

"Get what?" he asked, mystified.

She looked so unsure of herself, standing in the middle of the room, her arms suddenly wrapped around her middle as if she was wounded. All Sirius wanted to do was hold her, but that would lead them straight back to the bed, and he needed to think.

That niggling idea from earlier in the night was now battering around inside his head, fighting for space against this latest revelation. I'm in love with her, and I need to get my head examined. Fuck.

When she looked back at him, she had her eyes closed in a tight grimace. "This is you letting me down easy. Because last night meant more to me than it did to you."

That was too much.

"Are you out of your mind?" he hollered, closing the space between them to grab her arms.

He never should have started this conversation before he knew exactly what he wanted to say. Now Hermione was holding forth again, and he was racing to catch up.

"You've been very kind, all things considered," she was saying, "and I've not made this any easier. The fun part for you was the chase, wasn't it? Not this. Not today. We talked about wanting each other last night – end of. Nothing we said was about anything more than sex, was it? Then I stayed past my time, and you got found out."

"What are you on about, woman?"

She peeled herself out of his grip and sat on the bed.

"Yesterday – Harry and Ron. They explained to me what you're really like. How you're not one to settle down. How many conquests you've had. I didn't want to listen, but that's what this is, isn't it? I got too tangled up, emotionally – and now you're scared because you can see that. Last night, we wanted each other, but now you're done. Harry thrashed you because he knew you'd never want more with me, and that I'd get hurt. Now you just need to get me on side, to agree that we made a mistake so you can…"

His voice was like iron. "Can what?"

"Find the next witch."

Sirius ran a hand through his hair, not knowing which way to look. "Merlin's balls. All morning, all I hear is that I'm a lecherous bastard. Can we give it a rest, please?"

"I should go."

"I don't want you to go anywhere!"

"Sirius, stop pretending. Really. You just said that you don't do relationships. Somewhere, between last night and this morning, I got confused. I thought I was different – this was different – but I was just seeing what I wanted to. It was all fluff. You fought with Harry over nothing."

"Nothing? You're hardly nothing, Hermione!" She wasn't understanding any of it – and he was starting to get desperate. "Listen to me, that domestic downstairs with Harry – that would have happened whenever he found out about us. It wasn't specific to today."

"I'm truly sorry Harry's so upset," she said, her voice riven. "I would never want to come between you two. But that's what's happened. Downstairs – obviously, it wasn't what you expected. It makes sense, then, that you would want to end this quickly – to make sure everyone understands it wasn't anything serious so we can all get past it and you two can be okay again. The sooner I leave, the better."

"No, love," he said fervently. "You've got this all wrong."

"I don't think I do," she replied earnestly. Sighing deeply, she sat down at the end of the bed. "I am such a fool. You were being adult about this all along, and I was the silly romantic." He could tell from her tired tone that she was off in her own world. "Just a foolish little slut, right?"

"What?!"

Truly shocked, he knelt in front of her, trying to get her to look him in the eye. Instead, she intentionally watched her own hand play with the stitching on the coverlet. "What else do you call someone who has sex on her first and only date with you?" Laughing sadly, Hermione finally met his eyes. What he saw there was devastating.

"We were in this bed," she said. "We did all those things – I've never shown any man that much of me before – the real me– and then I asked you to stay. But in the morning, it was supposed to be over, you expected it to be done—"

"No!"

"—but then we got caught, and now I've cost you your relationship with Harry."

"You haven't."

"Sirius, look at your face. Look at your hands! Have things ever been worse between you two? I should have seen this coming. I should have known this was never going to be a momentous thing for you. But I just wanted you so much. I still do. You see? Silly little sl—"

"Stop saying that!" Sirius said harshly, cutting her off. "Never say that about yourself again. Ever. I won't have it."

"Why not?"

"Because."

"Because?"

"Because I—" love you. Because I'm in love with you.

The words wouldn't come.

Hermione shook her head as she watched him search for anything to say and find nothing. Something then changed in the set of her shoulders, the way her face took on a solemn, grave look.

She had given up on him.

Sirius began to panic.

"I should go," she said, before putting her hand against his cheek. "I'm so sorry, Sirius. For all of this. But I understand now, and I will make things right for you with Harry. I promise."

Giving her a wide-eyed pained stare, he fought against the tightness in his chest that was choking him.

"Hermione, please. None of what you think is true!"

"I need to go."

"Fuck it," Sirius swore before leaning in to kiss her.

It was madness, but it was also the only way he knew how to talk to her when words failed him. He couldn't not kiss her. He had to show her – somehow – just how wrong she was. This wasn't about Harry. It had never been about Harry. Sirius was the one who had messed up time and again – he was the damaged one in all of this, the idiot who couldn't tell her the truth, and yet here she was, throwing herself into a breach that he had made.

Because he had never grown up.

She'd said it and the sentiment rang true, deep within. How could he have? His life had stopped decades ago. But the one overwhelming thing drowning out that sad truth was that he loved her. He was in love with her – and, right now, he had her full attention.

Sirius put every emotion attached to that secret into his kiss.

His lips caressed hers, trying to find a better, deeper angle that would answer all of her doubts – that would voice his wonder at his being in the same room with her, let alone in her bed. A moan rumbled up from his chest as she let him in, and he tasted paradise.

With one hand caressing her jaw, he slowly fell back with her onto the mattress. He shifted so that he was half on top of her as the kiss fused them into one.

Hermione's hand came up to tangle in his hair, holding him close, moving with him. He treasured that small, loving gesture as much as her lips – maybe even more.

"Do you believe me?" he asked many seconds later, breathing heavily.

She shut her eyes, giving the tiniest of shrugs.

"Are you still going to leave?"

She nodded.

He kissed her again, ravishing her mouth, refusing to brook any answer that would take her away from him. His hands pushed her curls away from her forehead, wanting to be able to tilt her face this way and that, needing her to undo him completely.

Breaking only for air, he looked into her dark amber eyes.

"Now?"

"Yes," she whispered sadly.

This time, he moved a hand down along her side as he held her firmly to him, losing himself in her mouth while blindly touching the amazing curves of her body. He couldn't help the sounds he was making, needing her to know on the deepest level possible what she was doing to him.

"And now?" he asked softly.

He knew he had touched her in a perfect place when her back arched and she pushed herself into his hand before she could say another word. Sheer pleasure tilted her head back and her mouth opened. Sirius' thumb traced the edge of her lips as she drew in air. He wasn't ready for when she bit down, catching his thumb between her teeth. The tender bite turned into a wet kiss as her fingers covered his and slowly drew his thumb away from her mouth.

Letting go of his hand, Hermione swallowed deeply and nodded her head once more, breaking him as she did so. "I have to," she sighed, her fingers caressing his temple.

For a long moment, they simply gazed at each other, breathing the same air.

Sirius had never felt closer to her than he did right then, but there was still too much distance between them. He could feel the last, hidden parts of him shattering as he looked into her eyes, leaving him wide open.

"We both need time after this morning," she said simply. "Both of us." She leaned up to place a chaste, perfect kiss on his lips, before resting her head once more on the mattress.

He rolled off her and stared at the ceiling.

Rising from her own bed, Hermione walked over to her closet and started putting things into a bag that was far too small for everything it seemed to hold. When she was ready, she stood in front of him. Sirius hadn't moved through the entire scene, except to prop himself on one elbow so he could watch her uninterrupted, his face a study.

I love you.

"Hermione, wait," he said, suddenly sitting up. "Stop."

"Yes?"

"What if I want to grow up? What if everything you felt last night wasn't wrong? What if I feel that way, too?"

She looked down at the floor. "Sirius. Don't."

He shook his head. "Tell me. What would you do?"

"Why are you saying this?" she asked slowly, peering at him.

His dark grey eyes never left hers as he spoke. "You're not a fool. You've been absolutely right about me, from the first. I'm Circe knows how old, and I've never had a proper relationship. But the flirting, the banter – it's always meant something with you. Last night didn't mean nothing to me – it meant everything to me. Earlier today, you said you didn't know what you were doing. Fuck knows, neither do I. I don't know… how to do this."

He took her hands in his, looking up at her beseechingly. "The only thing I do know, right now, is that I don't want to lose what we had last night. I can't. I can't lose you, Hermione. Do you hear me?"

"Sirius."

"So," he asked honestly, "what do I do if I'm scared?"

Hermione brought one of her hands up to his face, moving his hair off his cheek. Her fingers were warm. "You talk to someone about it," she said. "You face your fears."

"It's that simple?"

"No," she said, shaking her head. "There's nothing simple about it."

He squeezed her fingers. "How do I face my fears if you're not here?"

"You'll just have to. Because I need some time, too. I need to talk to people. Talking helps. Thinking things through."

"But you will come back?" he pressed.

"I'll let Tonks know where I am," she promised, before turning away and walking out the door.

I love you.

"Hermione!"

She was already at the top of the stairs before she turned back. "Yes?"

Sirius braced himself against the entrance to her room. "Don't stay away too long?"

A small smile played on her lips the way he wanted to – sweetly, before turning into something deeper. "I'll try," she said.

Sirius knew his demons would come roaring back once she was gone. It was inevitable. But, for the first time he could remember, he didn't want them to win.

"I'll try, too," he promised. "It'll be hard though."

Hermione quirked her head. "What will?"

"Not coming after you."

"Would you do that?"

He stared at her, willing her to believe him. "I just told you, love. This isn't finished. Far from it. No matter what you've heard about me. No matter what you've thought – or think now. No matter how much I've screwed this up already. You'll see, 'Mione. I'll prove it to you."

"Really?" Hermione glanced down at her feet; when she raised her eyes again, she skewered him with an upward look from a downturned head, at once vulnerable and alluring. It stole his breath. It was exactly like the look she had given him all those months ago in the kitchen, the night he had returned.

Her eyes then had called to him, seeking him out, promising something he had never seen before.

Her eyes now pierced his heart: marking him, knowing him, owning him.

Pulverised, he straightened his spine and hid nothing, baring his soul to those beautiful brown eyes.

No one else had ever looked at him like that.

No one else ever would.

"How much do you want this, Sirius? How much do you want me?"

"You have no idea."

"I need more than just words," she said. "How far would you go?"

Sirius Black gazed at the woman he loved.

"Just watch me."