All You Want Chapter 9, a harry potter fanfic

"It's beautiful." She said, and Sirius noted that her eyes were still shining a little more than usual.

Sirius could say nothing to that. He just drew her in and pressed his lips firmly against her forehead. This time, when they pulled away, neither of them pretended to hide their smiles.

The rest of the day, Hermione awkwardly avoided Sirius. She started this by bathing, making certain to lock the door to avoid any possibly embarrassing walk-in moments. She soaked in the sudsy water for at least forty-five minutes, digging deep into her hair with her fingers and trying to file her feelings into a straight, logical line.

It was far more difficult than she had originally thought it would be. What she had used to think of Sirius as—like a butterfly pinned to a collection board—had exploded in recent times, and flown away laughing at her. Actually, looking back to her adolescence, this had actually probably happened long before the man's premature and temporary death. She had not known what to think of Sirius ever since the scene in the Shrieking Shack at the end of her third year… and even less so since the occurrence just before her sixteenth birthday.

Tingling from more than just the cold when she got out of the cooling water, Hermione dried quickly and unceremoniously, and then dressed into her new clothes. Sirius was walking by to his room from the kitchen when she exited the bathroom, and he opened his mouth as though to speak to her; she just gave him as dazzling a smile as she could manage, though, and he fell silent, giving her the opportunity to push past him, her heart beating as if she had just run a mile.

Feeling as though the last few weeks had completely wiped her memory, Hermione read back over on a few of her work notes, in order to get herself ready to go back to the office in the next few days. She certainly did not want to, because Scrimgeour would no doubt be lurking around, but the man was no more welcome in the Department of Mysteries than any normal witch or wizard would be, so at least Hermione would have some solace there as an Unspeakable. She gave a shuddering sigh as she flipped through some of her old files on the cycle of life, and on the hall of prophecies. After a few very deep, etching frowns, she closed these, believing she remembered enough to be effectively in the game when she decided to go back to work.

How long had she been out now? It seemed like years ago that she had woken up in that thunderstorm, in the middle of the night, and decided that it was the night. And it had been the night… the night everything began. Just not quite the way she had been planning.

It was in that instant, when Hermione felt exhaustion wash over her in a wave, and her eyelids suddenly becoming very heavy indeed, that she heard the exchange of several voices out in her living room.

Her eyes flew open now, on impulse. As a soldier of the great war, Hermione's nerves would always have an extra edge to them; when she recognized the voices, however, she calmed enough to grin with her entire face. Before she got to her feet, however, she heard Sirius's knuckle-knock on her door.

"Yes?" She called out, and he opened, peeking his head in.

"We have a few visitors. You appear to be decent. You want to let them in?"

Hermione blushed. "Well, if I hadn't been decent, it's not like you gave me any chance to cover up," she joked. Sirius's only reply was to grin back at her. "Let them in, I suppose. If they must."

When she saw Harry and Ginny, she just shook her head and smiled, and the first words to fly from her mouth was, "You two are so tan!"

They both immediately ran over to her ad hugged her all at once, and the three were a mass of smiles and a few tears (from Ginny) and laughter. "I'm so sorry we didn't get much of a chance to talk at the party." Harry said once the three had pulled apart, and Ginny was discreetly wiping her eyes. "Things were a little… hectic."

That's for certain, Hermione thought with a mental snort.

"We thought we'd pop in for Christmas, anyway," Ginny said happily. The two were not bundled up, which told Hermione that they had Flooed over (Harry would never have chosen Apparition as his favored method of travel).

"Well of course! Just a little visit," Harry said. "You don't mind, do you?"

"Of course not. I want to hear everything!" Hermione squealed delightedly, taking out her wand and summoning two chairs from the kitchen. "About your honeymoon, where you went… and since you've been back, and everything!" When the chairs arrived seconds later, Harry and Ginny each took one and sat, facing Hermione, their smiles still not fading. Hermione and Sirius both sat on her bed.

"You want to ask us what we've been up to?" Ginny demanded, laughing in her gleeful, tinkling manner. "You two have been very busy, I've heard! I mean, we heard what Sirius told us as the party, but I sort of want to hear it without all of those people around us."

Sirius and Hermione looked at each other, and they both blushed just a little. "Well, I'm not sure how much else there is to say." Hermione said softly. "Yeah, we've been busy, but there hasn't been much else than what you've read." Her blush deepened. "Actually, there's been a little less than what you've read, really."

Ginny and Sirius both gave nervous laughs, but Harry just smiled a little and remained quiet, looking from his godfather to his remaining best friend.

The talk continued, and they moved quickly onto other things, ending with a rather humorous three-way debate between Harry, Sirius, and Ginny about that year's Quidditch hopefuls.

"Thanks for coming over," Sirius said to Harry and Ginny as they got ready to Floo back to their home. Ginny beamed and nodded to him, and Harry did, as well.

"It was my pleasure. We stayed a lot longer than we expected to… sorry about tiring Hermione out like that."

Sirius grinned. Hermione had been nearly asleep by the time the other three realized that the sun was already going down. Sirius had nudged Hermione awake, promising to make a quick dinner for her once Harry and Ginny left, so that she would not go to sleep without having eaten, and the happy couple had politely excused themselves.

"Mum wouldn't forgive us if we didn't drop by there quickly again before the day is over. She'll probably guilt trip us into staying for dinner… we'll have to go home and change first," Ginny had said, before giving Hermione a long good bye hug and promising to drop in again sometime soon. Then, with a sly look at Sirius, she said she would not do so without owling first. Hermione had caught this and blushed, and stayed in her room folded in her bed while Sirius walked the guests to the fireplace.

Now, Ginny pinched some Floo powder. "Thanks tons, Sirius. It's been a pleasure." Then, she threw the powder into the fire and watched the flames turn green. She stepped in and yelled, "Draco's den!" In a second, she was whisked away.

Sirius felt his eyebrow rising. "Draco's den?" He asked Harry, who laughed.

"Yeah. Our place isn't connected to the Floor network yet, so Draco's… conveniently letting us use his." Harry rolled his eyes, and Sirius got the sudden feeling that Draco was not so happy about this set up. "We're neighbours! I couldn't be more pleased," Harry's voice was thick with sarcasm.

"I would imagine." Sirius chuckled.

There was a silence as Harry reached for the Floo powder. His smile faded, and he paused for a moment, before looking up at Sirius.

"Hey, listen, mate." His voice was soft, as though he did not want somebody—Hermione, Sirius thought with a jolt that clenched his stomach tightly—to hear what he was saying.

"I'm not saying you are. Because you might not be. But I know you. And I know Hermione. And I know what's been going on, and what both of you should be feeling, and what both of you look like you're feeling. And I've heard things. Not just from Lupin, either, so don't get mad at him." Harry smiled, two spots of color rising excitedly on his cheeks. He clapped Sirius on the shoulder. "And I'd like to tell you that, whatever happens or has happened between you and Hermione, I'm perfectly fine with it. You have my pre-approval."

Before Sirius could shut his jaw, which had fallen open for some reason, Harry was yelling, "Merry Christmas!" and then, "Draco's den!" and he was gone.

It was about five minutes after Harry, Ginny, and Sirius had left her room that Sirius returned, walking slowly and quietly, and wearing a rather confused smile on his face. He flickered a happy look in Hermione's direction, and sat in one of the chairs that had been emptied by their guests.

"I'm not asleep yet," Hermione informed him blearily, sitting up just a little.

"Don't bother sitting up. You need your sleep," he said, aware that she would be returning to work the following day. He was dreadfully interested in what sort of things the Unspeakables did, but, of course, he could hardly ask her and expect her to answer. Maybe one day, if he could manage to get her inebriated again….

He chuckled a little at his silent joke, and saw her smile as she looked over at him. "Merry Christmas, Sirius," she said, so lazily that he would have thought she was asleep already, had he not been looking directly into her warm, chocolate-brown eyes.

And he beamed. "Merry Christmas, Hermione."

She fell asleep, and soon, without moving from his spot, so did Sirius.

Hermione had been so worried at waking up a little late that she had not even noticed Sirius sleeping there until she was already dressed and completely ready. She gave a little yelp at having dressed in front of him, and, in the end, this is what woke him up.

He smiled at her upon waking. "Hullo, Hermione."

"Hey. I have to get into work…" she looked at her watch. "In eleven minutes." Her face was rather red for some reason Sirius could not guess.

"Oh, don't you have time for breakfast?"

She sighed, and said, "Toast. If I hurry."

The two practically ran to the kitchen, and Sirius magicked the bread into the toaster. They waited around, making minimal conversation (about Sirius's dream—something about chasing a mail carrier) until the bread came up, and Sirius watched Hermione eat it dry.

"Alright, now I really have to go," she said with a full sigh.

"Have a wonderful day," Sirius said, and, without warning at all, he pulled Hermione in to him, gave her a back-cracking hug, and kissed her firmly on the cheek.

If she had been red earlier, she certainly was so now. "Sirius," she said, laughing a little. But, when she met his warm, smiling eyes, she just smiled, as well. "Thanks. I'm off." When she pulled away from him, she Disapparated right there, and Sirius watched her, his smile suddenly sad.

"I sure hope Scrimgeour doesn't catch her today."

"Miss Granger!"

Hermione flinched and froze. She heard the voice as soon as she had Apparated in. It sounded familiar, for certain….

Percy Weasley walked pompously up to her and looked down his thin nose at her. "Miss Granger, it has been a while since you have deigned to come into work, hasn't it?"

"I've been on vacation, Percy." Hermione said with a little sigh. Percy gave an almighty sniff.

"Well, you have special orders from the Minister for today."

Hermione winced a little and just blinked up at him. "Well, what are they?"

Percy's smile was degrading, and, frankly, Hermione would have liked very much to slap it off of his face. "You are to gather reports from all of your fellow Unspeakables—only the basics, of course, the Minister hardly wants you to spill all of the secrets. Make a full, comprehensive report to be presented to him tomorrow."

Her eyebrows immediately went up. This was the first time anything like this had been asked for from the Department of Mysteries. "Er…?"

"The reason for this," said Percy haughtily, "is that there seems to have been a lack in reporting to betters within your Department. Obviously, seeing as what you yourself have been up to…."

Hermione frowned deeply. Sure, that might have been a reason, but Hermione thought that she could think of a far more likely one.

"The Minister believes that you should perhaps report directly to him."

Boiling a little inside, Hermione just nodded, trying not to say anything. She knew that any words that would come out of her mouth at the moment could hardly turn out to be kind. Nodding curtly to Percy, she brushed past him, and was walking away when his voice stopped her again.

"Oh, and Granger?"

Hesitantly, she turned around. There was something about that snooty tone of his that made her want very much to wipe that look off of his face, but she somehow held back.

"I wouldn't disobey the Minister anymore if I were you. He's a very powerful man, you know."

She felt enraged. There were hundreds of thousands of things she could have yelled at him about the employer-employee relationship, or decency, or sexual harassment, or blackmail, or extortion. She held her tongue in silence, though, and walked away, the soles of her shoes pummeling the floor determinedly, as she wished she could be doing to Percy (or Scrimgeour himself) at that moment.

Hermione stomped off to the lifts and stood there with the others until her floor in stony silence, before begrudgingly getting off on her level and beginning her duty of cataloguing the goings-on of her fellows.

"Sirius! What a surprise!"

Sirius smiled. "I thought I might help around the house, if you need anything, Molly."

Mrs. Weasley shook her head. "No, but thank you. The cleanup was finished early yesterday, just after presents were opened." She smirked. "And how was your Christmas?"

"It was quite nice, thank you," he chuckled. "Very quiet, until your daughter and her husband visited."

Mrs. Weasley smiled grandly. "Yes, well, children do that sometimes." She gave him a little look, as though attempting to remind him he was no longer a child. Or, at least, that was what Sirius felt from the remark; something small and subtle stabbed at him, and he recalled Harry's words somewhere in the very back of his head.

"Would you like some tea?"

Sirius frowned, pondering. Would he like tea? It seemed like such a content, old thing to do. His face twitched into what could only be described as a pout.

"No. I think I'll go into Diagon Alley for a bit. If anybody's looking for me…."

"Right. I'll tell them," Mrs. Weasley said, inclining her head. "And if you do happen to want a cuppa later—"

"Of course, I'll know exactly where to come," said Sirius. He was already halfway to the fireplace. "You don't mind if I use your powder, do you? I could pick you up some more—"

Hermione, exhausted, halfway fell across the table.

"Good lord, Granger," remarked a rather mundane weather employee. Hermione thought the man's name was probably Smithers, or Smitty, or something of the sort. "Are you quite alright?"

Of course people had been asking her about what had happened all around recently. The only people who seemed to have no questions were predictably her fellow Unspeakables. Hermione had almost been tempted to eat her lunch within the Department of Mysteries, to avoid her colleagues; however, she had not had the foresight to pack a lunch, and did not have the strength to go without one that day.

"I'm fine," she said, pulling into an upright position and rubbing her head where it had hit the table. She had thought she was alone upon first entering the common room. However, she was obviously mistaken—Smithers was sitting with two of his fellows in the climate department, a stringy witch named Ellis and contemplative broad-faced wizard called Hartman.

"I heard about all of that ruckus with that Black fellow," muttered Hartman thoughtfully, stirring his coffee dully as he spoke. "It's a great excitement, it is."

"Such hullabaloo!" Cried Ellis with a little snort. "Tell me, Granger… is all of it true?"

"Of course it's true!" Smithers cut in, when it looked like Hermione was thinking of what, exactly, she should say. "I was at the Weasleys' Christmas party two days ago, and I saw Sirius Black with my own eyes, standing right there with her." He turned to Hermione. "You must be quite tired. That was a great feat to achieve."

"Right. I mean… I know," Hermione sighed, not really thinking about what she was saying. She had had a long enough day already, and it was only just now lunch. Her coworkers were not always very easy to find—the Department of Mysteries was a very large place indeed, and difficult to navigate even for somebody who knew exactly how to get around. It took a long time to find people, and she had been taking down only the essential details of their current projects for her report to Scrimgeour the following day. While her peers had been understanding enough to offer a little, she could already tell the details she had gathered would not satisfy the Minister. Had she been able to feel any sort of rebellion, or anything but utter and frightening defeat at the moment, she would have gone right to the man's office and told him exactly where he could stick his Department of Mysteries progress survey. However, she felt humiliated and downtrodden. There was nothing she could do; worse yet, there was nothing Sirius could do, and she knew he would not take that lightly.

Let's face it, she told herself darkly, nearly every moment of the day so far. Scrimgeour more or less owns you. You can't get away from him tactfully and keep your job.

There was noting to do. She couldn't just roll over and take it, but she could hardly refuse the advance, either.

Hermione felt tears stinging slightly at her eyes, and she decided to change the topic of conversation.

"How is the weather?" She asked politely, and, when usually that would seem to be anything but a topic starter, in the present company, Hermione was not surprised to hear that it carried her company away into discussion for quite some time. She got by just nodding and listening as best as she could.

A/N: Alright, next chappie. I hope you guys enjoy. Please review, you know it makes my day! Happy St. Patty's day!!