A note from Serade Black: Thank you for the kind wishes and awesome reviews. I thrive on them! This chapter has a lot of fluff to push the story along, merely because I want their relationship established so that all understand their level of passion. They're a unique pair, not too rare, but being a strong SB/HR shipper, I believe they have a lot to offer the other in a world of their own. So, to you dear readers...enjoy! Though I'm near the end of my pregnancy, I hope to get at least one more chapter, before my baby comes! ~SB
Ch. 9 - The Noble Thing to Do
The spring was in full force. The cool afternoons were behind them, but the evenings still held a damp chill at times. The day at number twenty-four was a productive one. The inside of the house had been cleaned and tidied, bookshelves dusted, final portraits hung and the bed linens all refreshed for guests. Spring cleaning in full force in a house they only just completed. Regardless, it kept Hermione busy and domesticated, while Sirius worked outdoors to take advantage of the warmer weather.
Through the house where the windows were all opened, the consistent crank of a muggle wrench could be heard. Putting away her duster and believing that her other half was probably in need of a beverage, Hermione ventured into the kitchen to fetch a glass of lemonade.
She went to the backdoor that opened to the back garden and there she laid her eyes upon a sight that only she was privileged to see. Sirius was sitting the ground next to his motorbike, shirtless. Tools were scattered all around him, lying where he had left them. His body was lean, muscular, firm and lightly tanned as sweat beads trailed over his skin from the diligent hard work he was doing on his muggle contraption. He had one knee bent up, revealing the tattered hole in his jeans as his other leg lay bent before him, giving him that balance. His hair was pulled back in a band, but a few wisps managed to escape and frame his face. Now standing outside, Hermione leaned against the doorway with every deserved right.
He had heard the door, but after no voice followed, Sirius looked up from his tinkering. He met her eyes with a sly smile and gave her his tradition flirty wink.
"Don't mind me, just admiring the view," she said with a smirk, holding the glass of lemonade. "Carry on."
As he smiled when he stood up, she caught a hint of the younger Sirius in the gleam of his eye. He stretched his lean torso in front of him, flexing ever so slightly, rather proud of his healthy new form that was the results of late night runs as Padfoot and healthy meals prepared by his witch.
With oils stains on his face and arms, Hermione's eyes traveled the length of him as he gratefully took the glass she held out for him and consumed it in nearly one gulp. She admired the way his jaw moved as his mouth greeted the glass like an old friend; his thirst desperate to be quenched.
"How's it going out here?" she asked as he finished, interested on his progress.
Sirius set the empty glass down on the nearby table and glanced back at the present from Hermione, "It's coming along. Not ready to fly quite yet, but a few more adjustments and enchantments and it will." He looked back at her and said, "Thank you again, it was an incredible gift."
She smiled back and licked her lips, "You're very welcome. I look forward to riding it with you."
He couldn't help himself as he closed the space between them and rested his dirty hands on her hips, pressing himself seductively against her. She smelled so fresh and fragrant to him, even after she'd been in the house dusting bookshelves and folding the laundry, for she smelled like Hermione.
She welcomed him in, resting her arms around his neck, letting him come in for a kiss. She had no problem with getting grease on her, if it came from him. His hands rose under the hem of her shirt, feeling the slim contours of her body he knew so well.
"I love that you do this," she said sweetly, giving into his flirtations.
"I love that you let me do this," he added, trailing slow kisses down the side of her neck. He nuzzled his scratchy beard against her skin, making her chin tuck in.
She certainly brought out more of his flirtatious old self, like the person he remembered being when he was first trying to pursue her. His heart soared with the way she would meet his glance or if she'd run her fingers through his hair. There were many times when they were in the kitchen, or just walking down the hallway that she would come up behind him and run her hands along his back. She rekindled the youth he had forgotten about so many years ago and the way she displayed her love for him was almost overwhelming and he could never get enough.
She slid down his collarbone and over his bare chest; her fingers taking extra notice to the details of his tattoos. She sighed as she rested her head back against the wall he had backed her up against. To her, he was a dream.
"Do you have any idea how sexy these are to me?" she hummed sliding her fingers over the dark inked etchings on his chest.
"No, tell me," he played coy, loving the attention.
She grinned, just enjoying the sound of his voice. "You have this sort of arrogance about you that exudes an aura that I find myself unable to resist."
He snorted, baiting her to continue, "Arrogance?"
"It's a different sort, now that you're older than I am. Before, you were just cocky, now you're just arrogant."
"I prefer to call it confidence, my love," he added with certainty.
"And that is only one of the many reasons why I'm in love with you."
He closed his eyes and leaned in to kiss her again, after saying, "I am so grateful for you. You are the love of my life, Hermione."
She smiled into his kiss as she gripped his firm biceps. Though pushed up against the side of the house, she was blissfully trapped against him. He always had a special seduction tactic specifically made just for her that left her knees weak and unstable. She loved it.
His rough sneaking fingers traveled up alongside her bare ribcage, teasing himself with the softness of her skin. Their privately secluded garden came to mind as their kiss progressed, but it was her immediate pop of his seduction balloon that forced out a frown.
"I think I should tell you that I invited friends over for dinner, so walking in on us might be a bit traumatic."
Refusing to part his lips from hers, he mumbled, "You might have told me that, before you came outside and tried to seduce me with your witchy ways."
Resting her forearms on his shoulders looking relaxed and calm, she amended, "Nonsense. I just came out here to offer you something to drink. You're the one that instigated all this."
He grimaced and leaned his forehead against hers, "How much time do you think we have?"
"Hard to say," she said in a dream state. She savored the way their faces just fit so perfectly together when close. "They should be here any minute. I opened the Floo, so they could just stroll in."
"Hmm, so I can't bend you over my motorbike, can I?"
"Not right now, you can't," she teased.
It was hard for him to take no for an answer, so instead he just took the liberty of pleasing her mouth, sliding his velvet tongue between her soft lips. He gripped her waist tightly, pressing his belt buckle up against her stomach, pinning her to the wall. Feeding off of her like he hadn't drank for days, he deepened their shared kiss, taking advantage of the few minutes they still had alone. They made out like a couple of teenagers just like they used to...back in 1981.
The backdoor to the house burst open with an enthusiastic, "Hey, there you are - Oh, Merlin!" Harry broke up their moment, voicing his discovery with slight repulsion. Though he had long since accepted it, encouraged it even, it still struck him surprised at some moments. "Sorry, do you want us to come back?"
Giving Hermione a little space, but still keeping a hand around her waist, he smiled to his godson, "No, we're fine."
Harry caught the bike at the corner of his eye, "So, that's it, huh?" Harry went from being polite to being totally attracted to the nice shiny bike that sat parked with parts scattered around it.
Shortly after Harry had stepped out of the doorway and onto the back deck, several followed behind him, obviously looking for its inhabitants. Ron, the twins, Charlie and lastly Remus and Tonks had passed through the door, eager to see Sirius's present from Hermione and its current status of whether it was flying or not. They gathered together looking it over as Sirius and Hermione smiled to their friends, greeting them with only slight smiles that indicated they were somewhat unsatisfied with their too early intrusion.
"Before I sit on it and pretend that I have the knowledge to ride it," George started, "you two haven't christened it, have you?" He gave a glance back at the couple that stood just off from the group; Hermione's head rested against Sirius's shoulder.
"No."
"Yes."
Their answers contradicted the other, but it was obvious who was telling the truth by the playful slap Hermione gave to Sirius, where Sirius feigned shock as he glanced over to her. George followed his gut feeling and refrained from sitting on it and instead just leaned over to inspect the mechanical workings of it.
The evening progressed nicely as everyone reveled in the camaraderie. Hermione cooked a delicious dinner that everyone enjoyed and then after, everyone retired to the living room to listen to the wireless and the latest scores of the Quidditch match between Ireland and Germany (Ireland was in the lead). Everyone had left by the hour of eleven, except for Charlie.
Sprawled out on the floor before the couch, Hermione leaned over a pillow looking up at Sirius and Charlie relaxing on the sofa, drinking their butter beers. Her hair splayed out over her shoulders like a princess as she crossed and uncrossed her ankles, eager to further the discussion into topics she held strong interests in.
Their conversation had turned to science and the muggle studies of magical creatures, whereas Sirius was only a listener. Holding very little interest in magical creatures, he got up to go into the kitchen to refresh his and Charlie's beers.
As he set two cold bottles on the counter to open, his eyes fell on the beautiful woman lying on the floor. He smiled when she sat up to express her thoughts on how the "Americas" were handling the latest issues, using her hands to further exaggerate her point. Her eyes were on Charlie, encouraging his next word and agreeing with how the magical media wasn't directing enough attention to the special causes at hand. She laid a hand to her cheek in thought and then pushed a stray hair behind her ear, inviting Charlie to watch her.
Like a fly on the wall, Sirius watched on. He noticed the way her eyes were captivated with Charlie and the way his mind was voiced. It was obvious that she was relishing in the ability to have this kind of passionate discussion with him and not having it end up in an argument or a battle of the minds. Something she frequently experienced with Sirius and to the fly on the wall, it was somewhat obvious.
Sirius continued to watch the interaction carefully, even after he returned to the sofa with the butter beers. He was aware that Charlie held a special fondness for Hermione and for good reason. She had a beautiful mind and an incredible spirit and it was of no surprise that Charlie seemed to entrance Hermione with his free tongue on worldly views. All things that Sirius cherished in Hermione and loved the talks the two of them shared together, even if they did sometimes end up in heated arguments, a battle of the minds and then ultimately a rather hot make-up session that balanced everything out.
Sensing how out of place he was as they wrapped themselves up further with verbal debates Sirius had mild interest in at two in the morning, he yawned and announced his retirement for the night. Though he rather enjoyed bashing the Ministry on certain subjects, he was not in any capacity to further the conversation that late in the evening, when he was to report to said Ministry by nine in the morning.
"I'll be up soon, Sirius," Hermione charmed, smiling sweetly and reaching for his hand as he passed by. She blew him a kiss and he returned it with a wink.
"Charlie, safe journey home, mate," he said, shaking the young wizard's hand, offering an extra tight grip. He already wasn't keen on leaving his witch alone, but Hermione appeared to be holding her own.
"Right, see you in a month. I leave Tuesday," Charlie added, shaking Sirius's hand and glancing briefly to Hermione who had sat up to meet Sirius.
"Well, again, safe journeys," Sirius added as he excused himself and lightly touched Hermione's cheek with the tips of his fingers as he walked by.
Sirius yawned and though his eyes tried as they might to stay open, he rubbed his hands over his face to remain awake. He was very out of place, but watched how the two interacted. They were on the same level, closer to the same generation and still worldlier than their cohorts. It was mesmerizing to see life in Hermione's eyes again, something he failed to see with him sometimes, but regardless, it was refreshing to see her open up so freely about her work to another that was interested. Even if it was a wizard that tamed dragons halfway across the world.
Around four in the morning, Sirius knew because he opened one eye towards the clock that ticked on the wall as he heard Hermione quietly sneaking into their bedroom. He sensed her removing her clothes and felt the bed move as she slipped underneath the sheets and close next to him. Her arm slid around his waist lovingly, spooning him close and laying a kiss on the back of his shoulder.
"I love you," she whispered against his skin and slowly drifted away. Sirius felt and heard her words, but refrained to reply, for he didn't want her to know he was awake.
0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0
Work at the Ministry had been excruciatingly demanding. Hermione had been behind several stacks of backlogged information that was piling up over the reports of those finally coming forward that had returned from the Veil. Using Sirius as an Ambassador had helped greatly, though there still seemed to be a good number unaccounted for.
Sirius's position had been an important one. He had his own office on the first floor of the Ministry, easy to access should anyone desire to see him and talk about their transition back into the world. Having his office too far up in the building would tend to steer potentials to back away, not wishing to make the effort. It wasn't that personal, other than a framed moving portrait of him and Hermione from Christmas holidays sitting on his desk, as he didn't visit it very often. He was good at personalizing his connections by taking those that had returned out to lunch, or to a nearby park to talk freely or by just making an appointment to meet them down at the pub to relax and get comfortable.
Quite a few had come forward once they learned Sirius was their go-to person back into the wizarding society. Thanks to a friendlier cooperation with the Daily Prophet, alerting those in hiding that one of their own was their representative provided a useful tool to be taken advantage of.
The downside was that the progressive paperwork that seemed to come in went right to the Department of Mysteries where his own love was to process them. He would tried and stall his filing, knowing that Hermione was backed up and leading the project onward, but it was repeated countless times by her and her own superior that it was always business, never personal. Thus her nights were often delayed coming home, missing Sirius before he went down to the pub for dinner alone, or pulling a couple all nighters where the couple appeared to be like two ships passing in the night.
Along with his plagued thoughts of working within the Ministry, Sirius's mind turned to his personal life, focusing on the beautiful witch he shared his life with. Though they remained strong, there was a place in his thinking where she was absent. Work had only inhibited them slightly, but it was her correspondence with others that worried him. She loved him, he had no doubt of that, but he could never help but wonder if she was missing out on so much more. She craved nights out with Harry and Ron and when she was able to see them, Sirius let her go on without him. There was no reason he needed to tie her down from having fun with her friends, just like she would never put a stop to his desires should Remus demand his attentions. He encouraged her to flourish with them, be like she once was, but she always relayed to him that she was perfectly content to be as she was now, happily committed and focused. However, there was no mistaking the joy she took pleasure in whenever Ron, Harry, Ginny or the twins came along to steal her away for their own shenanigans. Willingly, he let her go. He let her be with people that were her own age, her own generation, as it should be.
Their intimacy hadn't changed an ounce. They still craved each other, still desired one another so much it was almost enough to make another ill. Several late nights, Hermione still found the energy to wow him. She would join him in the shower, or come onto him in his dead sleep or even, just because they could, initiate intimacy right there on their kitchen floor, ignorant should someone step through their Floo.
There hadn't been another office quickie since that one, for she voiced her concern and embarrassment that she was unable to focus for the rest of the day. Because of that, she never allowed him to close the door whenever he came to see her in her office. She received a few attempts, but was adamant about holding her own.
Sirius loved Hermione. He loved her more than he cared to admit and certainly never discussed it that openly with his godson. She was his rock, his reason for life as he'd stated it so many times. Though she never once said anything to make him believe otherwise, he secretly worried if he was holding her back. Nearing forty was looming closer and closer and things were gathering perspective in his future with her. He wanted Hermione to have everything she desired, down to that perfect cookie-cutter family she teased him about. To make such a decision that pained him to admit was absolutely debilitating.
One night that Sirius had come home from having dinner at the pub with Remus, the house remained empty and dark. He illuminated the torches in the foyer and removed his coat, placing it on the rack that stood by the front door already adorned with various coats and scarves. Though the house remained quiet, it settled on its foundation showing its age. In the far distance, he heard the feverish tapping of something on his kitchen window.
Walking through the house, his boots tapping heavily on the wooden floors, he rounded into the kitchen to see a brown and white owl, eagerly awaiting his attention. It was a Ministry owl, defined by its average looking breed, with a message attached to his leg that he swiftly jutted out once Sirius raised the window to let him inside.
It was the second Ministry owl of the night, the first from Hermione telling him that she was going to be working late and to find dinner, where he had retreated to the pub to meet up with Remus. This one was another from her, scribbled quickly and anxiously, it read:
Sorry, for the second owl. Charlie is home for a week and wanted to meet him for a drink to talk about a new specimen. I love you! xoxo - H
Reading it quickly, he folded it up and dropped it on the counter. A nervous gut feeling plagued him and he ran a hand through his unruly locks. His mind started to wander for no reason and with no proof, as it was just an overactive imagination. Letting her be her, Sirius shrugged his shoulders in thought and walked over to his liquor cabinet. He took out the bottle of Fire whisky and poured himself a large glass and then retired to the couch to enjoy his drink. With a flick of his wand, he charmed the record player on and listened to the sounds of his youth: The Hobgoblins.
Around eleven o'clock, Hermione arrived to a quiet home. She stepped through the threshold, noting that the hallway lanterns were still lit, which mean that Sirius probably hadn't gone to bed, yet. She hung up her coat and bag and ventured further into the house and towards the kitchen where she rounded on a sprawled out sleeping wizard on the couch.
The record player was stuck on the outside of the record, the needle on a dull scratch, making the room sound eerie and unnatural. She fixed the player and then went over to Sirius, who was passed out on the couch. His boots were kicked off and he was lying stretched out along the cushions with one arm draped over his face, shielding him from the light, but obviously he was too lazy to extinguish the lanterns.
Hermione picked up the empty glass that sat on the floor next to him, giving it a sniff to see what its previous contents were. With a twitchy nose, she deduced it to be Fire whisky and shook her head at the nauseating contents and put the glass in the sink.
Sirius hadn't moved since she came home and as she stood over him, she tilted her head to admire how peaceful he looked. Like a frat boy passed out after a party, he looked oddly comfortable with his limbs everywhere and his hair halfway in his face. She knelt down next to him and ran a hand up under his t-shirt in order to lightly scrape her fingernails over his stomach, hoping he'd rise.
He started to stir and moved his arm from his face, "I hope that's my girlfriend touching me and not some ugly bloke."
"Has this been a problem in the past?" she joked, running her hand higher to feel his tight chest.
"No," he said, finally opening his eyes and pushing his hair out of his face, "but, sometimes I don't trust our lot." He reached out and ran a finger down her face, "I missed you. I'm glad you're home, love."
"Me too. What did you do, while I was gone?"
"Well, I had every intention of getting pissed, but instead I just drank my very large glass of whisky and passed out. So, this is pretty much it. The intriguing life of an Azkaban escapee."
She smiled to him sweetly, leaning over and offering him a kiss, "Well, I find you fascinating." She stood up, taking his hand along with her in order to get him off the couch. They ventured towards the stairs where she went up first. "Charlie says, hi," she chimed, unable to see the bored look Sirius pulled behind her. "He's been working with a new breed, says it can understand English, which is nearly impossible. I mean, you can train a dragon to learn commands in any language, but for the creature to actually comprehend sentences are absolutely amazing."
They went into their bedroom for their nightly routine and as Sirius crawled into bed, he listened as his young witch rambled on about the discoveries she learned that night. Finally, as she was undressing, Sirius held up his hand and interrupted her, "Sweetheart, please don't talk about Charlie when you're getting naked. It's really hard for me to fantasize."
Hermione stopped to listen, holding her bra in her hands and blushing all over her bare skin. She smiled and nodded, going into the bathroom to finish her nightly preparations, leaving him to his thoughts.
That following Friday night, Sirius had made a grand effort of making it a specific date night for the two of them. It was discussed that it was much needed for the both of them and neither one was going to work late, make other plans with friends, accept dinner invitations or say they were too tired to go out. This was a night that Sirius relayed to her that was needed in order to recharge and Hermione appreciated the effort, reminding him of the fact that he did try to be romantic at times.
Around six o'clock that Friday evening, Hermione returned home after a tiring day from work, but she was still very excited about the plans for that evening. She hung up her coat and messenger bag and went up the old creaky stairs to look for her wizard.
As she entered their bedroom, she saw him standing in front of their floor length mirror, rolling the sleeves up on his maroon buttoned shirt that was fitted across his chest like it was tailored perfectly for him. Around his neck, he was wearing the black onyx necklace that Hermione had taken the night she left him back in 1981 and it sent chills over her skin to remember that dark evening. He turned around to greet her, looking dashing and handsome, wearing Levis that fit his slender figure as if they had him in mind. His hair was pulled half back in a black band, lettings wisps frame his face delicately. As his eyes met hers with a dark intent, she almost lost her breath over the vision; she almost believed she was staring at the younger version of him.
Leaning against the doorway, taking in the heavenly sight before her, she sighed to herself and said, "My goodness, you look good." He raised an eyebrow and a slight smile lifted the side of his mouth as he continued to roll up his sleeves. She pushed herself out of the doorway and sauntered over to him, sliding her hands over his taut chest. Her fingers touched the necklace around his neck, "Where did you find this?"
"When I was snooping around in your jewelry box," he cleverly admitted and wrapped his arms around her waist, offering her the most boyish smile. He was tempted to not let her go and changing their plans to just stay in for the night. He knew that it wouldn't take much convincing if he just leaned over and started to nuzzle his favorite spot just under her ear. It was usually the spot that got him whatever he wanted.
She cooed over his flirtations, but ducked out of his advances as she felt herself giving in, "You better let me go and get ready." She playfully evaded his grasp, "I'm onto you, Sirius." He played the innocent as he let her go, holding his hands up to show he wasn't up to anything. With a lasting wink as she opened her wardrobe, Sirius chuckled and left her to get ready.
Downstairs in the kitchen, Sirius was taking down a couple of glasses from the cabinet in order to prepare a bottle of wine he had purchased that afternoon. Uncorking it and letting it breathe, Sirius's thoughts strayed as he thought about the night ahead of them. It was something he was looking forward to and believed it to be very necessary.
Sirius's keen senses could hear Hermione above him in the bedroom they shared in his old house. Knowing the way she moved had become a part of him, like he needed it to breathe and function. She had become a drug to him and to be without her would be unbearable. Her movements were graceful and enchanting and it was no wonder why he was so captivated by her the way he was.
Sirius glanced towards the stairs, hearing her take the wooden steps slowly and carefully, and she emerged wearing a dark purple knees-length tea dress with black shrug. Her hair laid neatly over her shoulders and cascading down her back, spending a little time on her maintenance. Her make-up was refreshed and light, but it wasn't necessary for Sirius. She was just as beautiful without it and as her eyes sparkled for him, it took his breath away, making him feel incredibly inadequate next to this young beauty.
He smiled wide for her as she stepped closer, obviously pleased with his reaction and leaned in to steal a kiss. He greeted her delicately at first, but then gripped her waist in order to pull her in tighter against him, eliciting a slight gasp to escape from her lips. He felt warm and intoxicating, she wondered if he wasn't quietly enchanting her to fall for his charms.
"Alright, one glass and then we're out," he said, pulling away and reaching for the glasses. He seemed to be boyishly giddy about how his night was progressing.
Together, they walked hand in hand along the Thames, relishing the closeness that they hadn't shared in quite a time. Memories of how things used to be flooded Sirius like an old friend coming to greet him once again, as he thought fondly of his first courting of the girl next to him. His heart beat strong for her, confident and ever so lovingly as he felt her lean her head against his shoulder as they watched the lights from oncoming cars travel over the bridge. Their silence was blissful, their small talk just enough and together they felt like the entire world could pass them by and no one would know.
"Do you remember the first time I took you home to McGonagall's house?" Sirius asked, keeping his step in unison with hers as they strolled.
"Of course, because it wasn't that long ago, for me," she remarked, squeezing his hand. "I was a little tipsy-"
"You were drunk," he corrected with a bit of lightness in his voice.
"I may have had too many that you had bought for me, yes," she agreed, trying to improve her state. "But, I do remember that night, because I got to see the way you interacted with James and Remus as a crew. Oh, golly, I wanted you to kiss me that night!"
"Darling, I wouldn't have dared! You tried to hex me, twice, if I recall."
"Did I, yes, I guess I did. Well, I had to be on my guard. This handsome wizard comes by on his motorbike trying to save me from whatever lurked in the shadows and all I was worried about was that my skirt was going to fly up when we rode!"
Sirius chuckled and stopped them so he could look right into her eyes. He traced a finger down her soft cheek and said, "I have some dark nightmares, but I wouldn't trade memories like those for anything in the world."
Hermione smiled, gazing up at him like she was a lovesick teenager all over again. It was sometimes hard to believe that he was there, because of her. He looked so dark and handsome; his perfectly cut jaw line that depicted his somewhat royal bloodline was well defined. Her heart sped up a few beats as he touched her cheek, wondering if someday she would just wake up and have had it been all a dream being with him.
"And I love you more than I can express in words," she merely said, offering him a slight smile as he leaned up to touch his lips with hers.
Sirius heard the chime of Big Ben in the distance, alerting him that it was time for their dinner reservations. With a subtle glance around them, he Apparated the two of them to the Leaky Cauldron where he led her through to Diagon Alley and down the narrow street to a newly opened restaurant. Still holding her hand as he reached for the front door for her, he wondered if he was doing the right thing. For as she passed before him to enter, a wave of anxiety flushed through him like the breaking of a dam with no supports. The tips of his fingers started to tingle and his heart began to beat swiftly as his keen senses appraised the room, surveying their surroundings.
The couple was led to a table tucked along the back and away from prying eyes should anyone recognize him. Infamy had its drawbacks, especially when you were trying to seduce your lady. The room around them was quaint, but a lot bigger than the outside let on: wizard establishment. The style was classy and sophisticated, charming, yet elegant and Hermione looked like a princess in a throne as she took her seat held out by the waiter.
After a few minutes of glancing at the menu, the two of them started with a glass of wine to accompany their salads. Across the restaurant, a solo violinist could be heard serenading guests enjoying their meal, enchanting nearby guests to feel relaxed and at peace. For Sirius, he was already at peace with his company, meeting her glances every now and then between bites, making him feel incredibly desired and necessary to her.
In between the salads and the refreshed wine, Hermione excused herself to the ladies room, but not without requesting a kiss as she passed him, leaving him to his thoughts. His thoughts left him anxious and unsure, for there was a specific reason that Sirius was "snooping through her jewelry box" as he answered earlier. As he shifted in his seat, he had a hard reminder of what was in his pocket. He needed to know her size.
Feeling like he had a few minutes to collect his thoughts, Sirius glanced behind him to make sure she was out of sight. He reached into his into his pocket and pulled out a small antique box with gold branding. He painfully opened the lid and allowed his eyes to fall on the ring. It was glistened beautifully in the candle light and was probably something larger than she would normally wear, but when he saw it, he immediately thought of her. Something aged and elegant, something mature and not new, but absolutely gorgeous once it sat on her finger.
Deep down, his pulse started to quicken once again. He had done a lot of thinking these last few weeks and he had to evaluate what their life was lacking and what they needed in order to move on to the next step. He remembered her painful words, but they never settled into him as a reality. Making himself believe what was necessary took a lot of convincing and the answer was crystal clear. He closed the lid of the small box and slid it back into his pocket.
A few moments later, Hermione returned and sat down in her chair across from Sirius and lifted her wine glass to her lips, meeting his eyes and gazing romantically into them. There he appraised his young mistress again; so pretty, so gentle, so innocent (well, mostly) and still holding an entire life ahead of her. As much as he loved her, truly loved her, and wanted her to never be away from him after waiting for her for so long, he wasn't sure if he could do it. If he asked her to marry him, she would be trapped. He would be holding her back and she would be missing out on so much she desired in life. She didn't deserve to be tied to a man that had lived almost two lifetimes. His lifeline was long and because of her, it had been extended. He owed her everything and she owed him nothing Life with her had been a dream, something he never deserved and nothing he ever believed would come back to him.
His youth had been tragic for being slung into Azkaban, but before then, he had a different plan in mind. It included this mysterious girl that could be found at the bookstore Remus worked at, playing hard to get. He remembered waiting outside on the bench, hoping that she would take his offer to join him and by the grace of some of the Gods, she did. This intelligent pretty witch told him she was not like the others had managed somehow to lure him and he was smitten. He fell in love with her fast, too fast and as he grew out of his twenties and ventured into his thirties, his thoughts always fell to her.
Which is why now, as he sat enjoying his dinner with that very same witch, did he believe that he was making the wrong decision. He owed it to her to make sure that she had what she wanted, when she wanted and how she wanted. Her happiness meant a big sacrifice for Sirius and in time, she would see it the way he did, even if she chose to resent him in the end.