~oOo~
The familiar metallic clang of Aunt Louise's antique kitchen bell pulled Hermione from slumber, just as it had for the past ten days. Her eyes opened to the pre-dawn darkness and fell onto the empty cot across the room, just as they had for the past ten days. The routine wave of hurt and confusion, however, was steadily growing into anger, not only at Sirius' blatant avoidance of her, but because meanwhile, in just ten days he had made quick work of fitting in quite comfortably with her distant relatives while she still floundered awkwardly.
Hermione rolled her eyes and gave an unhappy huff as she pulled herself up out of the small bed. After quickly washing up, she pulled on a pair of cutoff shorts and a halter-top and headed to the kitchen to help her aunt make breakfast.
Louise Ross was sifting flour into a large bowl when Hermione padded down the stairs.
"Good morning Aunt Lou," the young witch greeted softly, opening the large old refrigerator to start pulling out ingredients.
"Mornin' angel." The elderly woman smiled, and with a painful twinge, Hermione was reminded of her recently deceased mother, Louise's much younger sister.
With a sigh, Hermione began unwrapping a large side of bacon while the cast iron skillet on the stove heated up. A moment later, the kitchen door opened and Sirius entered, bearing a basket full of fresh brown eggs from the coop.
"Here you are, Louise," he said with a warm smile, setting the basket on the counter. "Anything else I can do to help?"
"No, no, dear boy," Louise practically giggled. "'Mione and I have it covered. You just make yourself at home."
Sirius paused and Hermione could feel his sharp gaze on her, but she obstinately refused to look up from separating the bacon.
"Good morning, Hermione," he rumbled, causing a familiar ache in her chest. She couldn't help it. Her eyes travelled of their own volition, first drinking in the sight of him in his well-worn blue jeans, then his perfectly muscled chest exposed by the button-down shirt that was hanging open, and finally his face – his full lips and strong jaw line, perfect nose, and steel coloured eyes that never seemed to miss anything. Hermione was startled to realize those eyes were looking directly into hers with something soft and almost apologetic, rather than the cool detached gaze he'd adopted nearly two weeks ago.
She swallowed nervously. "Good morning, Sirius," she answered, surprised at the steadiness of her own voice. She caught a flicker of his familiar smirk and turned back to her task, cursing inwardly. The man had butted into her family, endearing himself to them with his goody-goody helpful ways while practically ignoring her this whole time, yet one glance from him had her nearly reduced to a puddle of goo. Perfect, Granger – you're the picture of independence and strength, she thought with irritation.
Sirius made a small clearing sound with his throat. "I'm, er – going to go wash up then," he announced, and went upstairs.
As the sound of his footsteps receded to the floor above them, Aunt Lou gave Hermione a nudge with her shoulder. "He's a real keeper, y'know. Won't catch any of these local boys fetchin' eggs for the women at six in the mornin' on a Saturday. Best not let him get away, dear," she murmured as she began cracking eggs into the large bowl.
Hermione whirled around, her hands on her hips. "Aunt Louise!" she hissed. "For the last time, Sirius Black is not mine to let 'get away!' Nor will he likely ever be, thank you. The man might get your eggs for you, but to the rest of the world he's a perfectly arrogant, selfish, self-centred, womanizing arse!"
"Whatever you say, dear," Louise answered with a calm smile. "Don't let that bacon burn, now."
~oOo~
"So what's on the schedule for today, boss?" Sirius asked between a mouthful of flapjacks and a swallow of black coffee. His British accent sounded odd beneath the American phrases he'd already grown comfortable speaking.
Hermione felt a twinge of annoyance. Why did he have to act so bloody…'at home'? she wondered irritably.
Initially she had been relieved to see Sirius making productive use of their situation; she'd worried that he would continue to brood and sulk, making their stay more of an imposition than it already was. Neither of them was exactly happy to be suddenly thrust into hiding in the southern farmlands of the United States, and while it was because of her, it certainly wasn't her choice that he be dragged along. Especially given his cool regard of late.
Since she awoke nearly two weeks ago in a curse-recovery ward at St. Mungo's, her previously growing friendship with the handsome, dark-haired wizard had come to an inexplicably abrupt standstill. He was the last person to show his face in her hospital room, and couldn't seem to get out of there fast enough when he did. His sudden distance from her had hurt far worse than any of her physical pains, but no one else seemed to notice anything different about his behaviour toward her. She supposed in the rush of Order members and friends, his absence didn't seem abnormal to anyone but herself.
Once she was cleared for release from the hospital, Harry informed her that she was to be sent into hiding until her attackers were safely rounded up and brought to justice. While it frustrated her and she loathed being told what to do, she had agreed, telling him privately that she would go to her relatives in America. Since her parents' murders, her aunt was anxious to see her anyway.
It was then that Harry had told her she wouldn't be going alone, that Sirius would be accompanying her for protection. When she'd tried to argue, he'd simply presented her with two fake passports, identification, and plane tickets for them, pleading with her to just go along with it, saying that she was too precious to him to risk sending her alone, and that Sirius had already agreed.
The inclusion of Sirius as her bodyguard had left her feeling guilty, uncomfortable, insulted, and, if she was honest with herself, more than a little morose since any hint of their previous friendship was lost in the cool politeness he maintained now. But, if she and Sirius had one thing in common, it was the near-inability to say 'no' to Harry. So there they were, an ocean away from home, hiding when they'd both rather be fighting.
She and Sirius had barely spoken since their departure. He'd made it quite clear almost from the moment she'd awoken that he was only interested in interacting with her when it was absolutely necessary. At first, she couldn't blame him, despite the fact that it hurt so much. Once again, he was sacrificing his freedom, torn from his world and the only family he had, and all because she'd made one stupid mistake, detouring to the Muggle pharmacy for deodorant of all things, and getting herself caught.
However, as the days wore on at the Ross farm, he'd settled into a comfortable routine of helping her uncle and cousin, his warmth and humour radiating to the small family, while he practically ignored Hermione. The last time they'd shared more than a strained "hello" was when they'd first arrived and had to work together to set up a series of complex magical wards around the farmhouse.
Hermione glared at her plate and poked at her eggs miserably. As if his coldness toward her wasn't bad enough, now she felt like more of an outsider than ever. Little more than a week had passed before Sirius had managed to make himself more at home with her distant relatives than she had in a lifetime. He'd hit it off immediately with her cousin Jake the moment he picked them up at the airport in his battered red pickup truck. When they arrived at the farm, Sirius had made an indelible impression on her Aunt Louise as well as her Uncle Hugh, insisting on washing that evening's supper dishes by hand before joining the men on the back porch for cigars, which he had smuggled past Customs with ease.
From the first morning they were there, Sirius immediately set about making himself scarce to Hermione, but useful in the fields with Jake and Uncle Hugh, leaving her in a cloud of mixed feelings. She couldn't help the niggling bit of envy and annoyance as Aunt Lou gushed over the handsome visitor who was ever so helpful around the farm. More than once the older lady had made ludicrous implications about Sirius being "a real keeper" and that Hermione should "hang on to that one."
Fat chance of that, she thought bitterly.
She was pulled from her brooding by the comfortable conversation between Sirius and her uncle. Hugh Ross glanced up through bushy grey eyebrows and grinned in response to the wizard's question. "Actually, nothin' – with your the extra help now, we're a couple days ahead, so you may as well take the day off. I'm headed in to town - gotta meet with the bookkeeper for the quarterlies, then see about borrowing that front loader from Jim Linkous." He nodded at Sirius and Hermione. "You kids should ride down to the lake. We're expecting storms later, but there's plenty of time before then. Jake, that new mare's a sweet one, she'll be fine for 'Mione."
Hermione's cousin Jake snorted over his coffee and muttered, "Yeah, right."
The phone rang just then and Hugh answered it in the living room, leaving Jake, Hermione, and Sirius alone at the large old trestle table.
Hermione scowled at the table in silence until she felt a nudge at her side. She looked over at Sirius who was watching her with his eyebrows raised.
"What do you think?" he asked. It was his first truly friendly gesture towards her since they'd left London, and Hermione felt her heart jump slightly at the familiar warmth that had returned to his grey eyes. She'd missed him so much…
Before she could answer, Jake interrupted her. "She's afraid of horses," he said with a smirk.
"I am not!" Hermione snapped. "I'm just not… comfortable on them, and animals can sense that," she muttered petulantly, her cheeks reddening.
Sirius gave her an incredulous look. "Let me get this straight - you've flown on the backs of hippogriffs, thestrals, a bloody dragon, you've handled unicorns, and I'd even wager you swooned over that centaur Dumbledore had teaching at the school. But plain old, everyday horses make you 'uncomfortable'?" He chuckled softly in amazement.
Hermione flushed angrily, her melancholy and hurt feelings momentarily forgotten. "I did not 'swoon' over Firenze, thank you very much, and flying on the back of anything is not my idea of fun. Every one of those was a life or death instance, and if you'll recall, two of those times it was to save your bloody arse!" She stood and took her dishes to the sink, swishing her wand at them so hard that red sparks flew from the tip.
"Easy there, tiger," Jake exclaimed, still getting used to the idea of his cousin's magical background.
"Hermione," Sirius pressed, "you're a war hero, for Merlin's sake – you fought in, and survived, the final battle against Voldemort – how can you possibly be afraid of a mentally simple, trained, four-legged ground creature like a horse?"
Jake choked on his coffee. "Volduhwhat?" he spluttered, never having heard any of the details of the war his little cousin had survived.
Hermione rolled her eyes. "Voldemort – he was the big bad guy in our world. Head of the magical terrorists, if you will."
"What the hell kind of name is that, though? Sounds like some kind of overpriced carpet cleaner." He chortled. "No wonder he went bad - he was probably pissed at his parents."
Sirius waved his hand impatiently. "The point is, you should come with us to the lake. I'll protect you from any equine wiliness." He grinned teasingly.
"Ah, that will be 'come with you to the lake,' my friend," Jake interrupted. "I have my own little picnic planned with a hot little blonde from Floyd," he boasted through a mouthful of bacon.
"Hey, is it that bird from the bar the other night? Well done, mate!" Sirius grinned at the younger man's nod.
Hermione clenched her teeth slightly at the involuntary lurch of jealousy in her stomach. Granted, she'd turned down joining the men at Harlan's, the local country bar, but she was certain Sirius' halfhearted invitation was only extended out of politeness. Even more certain was the fact that she would have stuck out like a very awkward and sore thumb had she gone, whereas Sirius doubtlessly was a hit with all the locals, especially the women. To make matters worse, Jake's reputation spanned at least three counties, yet women still threw themselves at him. With his all-American country-boy looks and cocky charm, it was little wonder. Hermione imagined with no small amount of bitterness the gaggles of idiot women who probably flocked around the two starkly contrasted yet equally charming and good-looking men. Well, not exactly equal, she amended before catching herself. Of course she'd find Sirius more attractive – he wasn't her cousin. And any extra attractiveness she might find in him was tainted by the very "charm" that made all the other women chase after him like a bunch of senseless, dim-witted, weak-minded…
Hermione shook herself out of her internal rant with a huff.
"Well, that settles it," she quipped sharply. "A day at the lake with a swotty old bookworm?" She clucked her tongue sarcastically before turning to leave the kitchen. "You'd be better off alone, Sirius."
"Told you she's chicken," Jake muttered smugly, taking his dishes to the sink.
Hermione whirled angrily. "I am not chicken!" she gritted between her teeth.
With an infuriating grin he turned to Sirius, who was watching amusedly. "Guess I'll go saddle up those ponies for ya then," Jake said, casting a challenging glance to Hermione before heading outside, the screen door of the kitchen banging noisily shut behind him.
Unable to resist, Sirius smiled. "We don't have to take the horses, Hermione," he said innocently, but his silver eyes glinted teasingly. "Maybe your Uncle Hugh could drive us down there before he leaves. I'll go ask him if you'd like."
"We'll take the bloody horses," Hermione growled, turning on her heel and stomping up the stairs to the one spare room she was sharing with the arrogant and obnoxious prat until they could finally go home.
As she got ready for one of the last things she really wanted to do with her day, Hermione's inner voice of sensibility was strangely mute. It was bad enough that Sirius had managed to fit in better with her relatives than she ever had. But to have this ridiculous taunt brought up in front of him… No, Jake had always bullied and teased her for her lack of adventure. It was a small irritation at most. Something about Sirius' additional teasing pushed her, however.
Angrily jerking a dresser drawer open, she rifled for the swimsuit her aunt had insisted she purchase. Sirius was right – after all she had been through, her fear of horses, or riding them anyway, was ridiculous.
Hermione braided her hair into two long plaits to keep it out of her face. Then, pulling on a pair of jeans and a tank top over her swimsuit, she made her way down to the stables with a fierce determination.
~oOo~