Disclaimer: Unfortunately I still don't own Harry Potter. It all belongs to J.K. I only wish I was as amazing as she is!

Well guys I apologise for how long it's taken me to update. I've had to get a few things together for the storyline. There are a few bumps ahead for Hermione/Sirius and I wanted to get them in order. What does everyone think about Harry/Martha? I'd love to hear your thoughts so review please. Hope you enjoy this chapter!

Chapter 10.

Martha

Hermione owes me BIG time! Now I love Lyra… like she was my own… but bloody hell! I don't get up for anyone at 6am, and yet here I stood at that very time this morning making scrambled eggs with my eyes closed while an incredibly alert five year old lectured me on the pros of an early start. Sometimes she's way too much like her mother!

Four hours later, a pan of burnt eggs, two bowls of cereal, seven drawings, and a headache later there's finally a knock at the door. Thank Merlin! I'm at the door in less than three steps. When I swing it open however, I'm suddenly sixteen again! In other words I'm completely out of my comfort zone!

"Are you going to stand there with your mouth hanging open all day, or are you going to invite me in?" The infamous Harry bloody Potter is standing in my doorway taking the piss out of me, one eyebrow raised. I haven't had nearly enough sleep to deal with this. Shit maybe I'm dreaming and Lyra's burning down my flat trying to cook brownies? And I HAVE NOT been staring at him with my mouth open!

I blink a few times, pinch my arm subtly and come to terms with the fact that yes this is really happening. Now to deal with it! "No I certainly will not! I don't know you from a bar of soap Harry Potter, so you won't be stepping an inch inside my home!"

His face emits distaste. "Too many dark artifacts in there Snape?"

"My name is Von-Fursten! Martha Von-Fursten!" I can hear the steel in my voice. He must too.

He shrugs and rolls his eyes. "Whatever." The silence between us is deafening.

"Alright Potter what the bloody hell are you doing here?" This is just too weird. Why do I dislike this man so much?"

At that moment Lyra chooses to pull herself away from my television (something Hermione strictly forbids but I've found to be incredibly useful when entertaining her wild daughter) and comes skipping to the door. "Hello Harry." She says shyly from around my legs. Shyly? God he's charmed her alright!

"Hello sweetheart!" It seems to be the first genuine response from him the entire time he's been standing there. "That's what." He says looking back up at me and nodding at Lyra. "I'm picking up the munchkin here and taking her home to Hermione's."

"Hmph um no you're not dude!" I reply right back.

"Uh yes I am."

"Look you might be Harry Potter but that doesn't mean I know you any better. I'm not letting you take my goddaughter anywhere. Not unless I have the go-ahead from Hermione."

"Are you for real?" His face is one of shock… no anger… no shock…

"Yeah I am. Hermione's really strict about this sort of stuff. You'd know that if you'd been around the last few years."

"It's not like she left me much of a choice there did she." His face is stone flat.

I take his approach from earlier, shrugging. "Whatever."

"Well I can't exactly owl her when I don't have an owl now can I?" He says through gritted teeth.

"Not my problem Potter."

"You know what you are Von-Fursten? A right bit-"

"-and I'm going to stop you right there." I say shutting the door square in his face. "Prick" I mutter underneath my breath so Lyra won't hear.

Said five year old has other ideas however! "That wasn't very nice Aunt Marty! Harry's Mama's friend! And he likes 'Rion and Daddy too." She's got her hands on her hips and I feel as if I'm being scolded. "Oh bloody hell!" I swing the door back open. Potter's still standing there wide mouthed… shocked out of his brain no doubt that someone of the opposite gender has failed to deliver an invitation into her home. "Well come on then Potter. You're letting the morning chill in." I say swinging my arm in an open gesture.

His brows shoot up again and he crosses the threshold into my tiny studio. And now comes the part where he takes the piss out of your home. "Lyra sweets, go pack up the colouring stuff on the bench and we'll get going. I'll come with you to drop her off. I want to see Hermione anyway." I say to his questioning look.

"I am capable of apparating myself and a five year old." He says looking around the room. I don't even bother answering. Instead I grab a pair of chucks lying by the sofa and begin the task of pulling them onto my sore as hell feet. That's what happens when you're standing for half the night! Looking up, I catch him staring at the very reason my feet are aching. "Did you do this?" He questions, not breaking eye contact with the canvas set up on my crappy old easel.

"Yep." I answer, popping the 'p'. His hand reaches out to touch it. "Don't!" I all but yell. "It's still wet!" He seems to snap out of it suddenly, his eyes returning to normal, his brow furrowed. I can't help but feel uncomfortable standing here like this, as his eyes travel around my studio. I follow his gaze taking in everything that he is. My small kitchen where Lyra is taking a painstakingly long time putting one pencil at a time back in her 'Drawing bucket', the coconut soap smell coming from my even smaller bathroom, the messily collaged wall behind the sofa I'm currently perched on, the dozen or so canvases leaning against every available surface… and of course my large ass wrought iron bed pushed against the far wall. Merlin I should have made the bed. Yes my place is small… but it's all mine and I love it. It's the first time I've ever had my own space.

"So you're an artist…?" His voice is small… unsure.

"No… yes… I don't know. Are we gonna have this conversation Potter? Really? I'd rather not." Yes that was bitchy.

His face hardens again. "Fine by me."

How long does it take to pack up a few pencils and pick up a few drawings? "Lyra time to go. Grab your pictures so we can get moving. I'll finish up when I get back." I yell, grabbing our jackets from the arm of the sofa.

"'Kay." she says bounding over, her drawings partially scrunched in her tight little fist. I pull the zipper up on the jacket she's just slipped on.

"Is it cold out?" I ask Harry.

"A little." He answers giving me a perplexed look as he watches me pull a rather large woolen beanie from over by my bed and prop it onto Lyra's head. She giggles as it falls down over her eyes.

"Hold still." I tell her, laughing a little myself. With a flick of the wand it shrinks to fit her head perfectly. Then I twist my wand once more and it turns hot pink. "So let's go then."

"Isn't Aunt Marty great?" My goddaughter exclaims, jumping up and down before taking one of Harry's hands.

If anything, his perplexed look is even more… perplexed? "Yeah, she's definitely something."

I snort in response and push them both out the door. God I'll have to actually touch him to apparate! My life sucks! In less than ten seconds we're outside Hermione's building. She SO owes me BIG time!

~ o ~ o ~ o ~ o ~ o ~

Hermione

Yep she's pissed. Oh Martha I promise it wasn't my idea! "Daddy!" …And my daughter just ran straight past me. I'm definitely not anyone's favourite person today.

"Marty it wasn't-" I begin.

"-Don't Hermione." She interrupts. "The morning has been hectic enough. I know you wouldn't have sent Potter without a damn good reason and after seeing you yesterday I'm gathering there was one."

"There was I promise."

"Yeah well let's not delve into it now. I'm bloody exhausted and still need to finish a lot of work at home before my shift tonight." She says with a yawn.

"I was thinking that I'd pop in later at the pub. Catch a free drink like old times? I've missed our Salem Saturdays."

She smiles one of those genuine Marty grins. "Me too… Sounds good." Harry is watching us from the kitchen entryway. Just what are you thinking Harry Potter? His gaze is so bloody focused on my best friend, I feel myself beginning to blush in their presence. "Lyra hun I'll see you later. Promise you'll come sleep over again soon!" She winks at me before catching my ever-growing baby in her arms.

"Definitely! Next time we can paint with the brownie mix!" Lyra's little eyes light up at the possibilities of her suggestion. Martha simply laughs.

"Yeah maybe… a solid maybe." She throws a quick bye to Sirius over her shoulder and gives Harry what I can only class as a nod as she leaves. Well that wasn't weird at all!

As soon as she's gone I turn on Sirius. "I could kill you right now yo know?"

Of course, he's smirking, his hands raised in a What? gesture. "Don't know what you could possibly be referring to love.."

"How could you send Harry over there? I told you how she feels about the whole thing!"

Harry pushes himself off the kitchen doorframe. "How she feels about what whole thing?" He says walking over to the two of us.

I sigh in exasperation. "Oh no you don't Harry Potter. You know exactly what I'm talking about! You bloody well agreed to go over there when I specifically told you to leave her alone not twenty-four hours ago. She's not interested in playing nice with you. She's been through a lot and she's a good person. She's a good friend… my best friend."

"I didn't say anything that would have antagonised her I promise… well not really… I did sort of call her a bit- never mind."

"Oh Merlin!" I yell.

Sirius bursts into fits of laughter. "Not the way to break into those pants mate!"

"SIRIUS!" Harry and I both yell at the same time.

"KIdding! Sheesh! Hey Cub let's go for a walk and let mummy pick on Harry some more huh?" I'm frowning as he tosses our daughter over his shoulder and struts out the front door, with Lyra giggling the whole way. "We'll be home in a bit." he calls out.

There's a silence before he speaks. "Did she really do all those paintings?" His voice is piqued.

I look up at him from where I'm seated on my lounge. "Yeah she did."

"They were… amazing. I've never… I mean they… It was like they spoke to me." He shakes his head and laughs at himself. "That made sense in my head."

"No they do. She's so talented. It's a real gift… one that she's only been able to pour out recently." What's with the interest Harry?

"Harry do you like Martha?"

"WHAT?" His eyebrows have shot up to meet his faded scar. "No! I just thought the paintings were good… didn't think they were hers to be perfectly honest!" And now we're back to obnoxious 'in denial' Harry.

"Okay then." I deadpan.

"So where's this pub she works at? And why is she working at a pub when she can paint like that?"

"Merlin Harry can you be anymore obvious? COME ON?" I start to laugh outright at him. "She is beautiful. You wouldn't be the first to notice that."

"Hermione I'm not interested like that." He grits his teeth a little.

"Whatever. She works down at The Three Broomsticks a few nights a week to pay rent on that studio of hers. She hasn't sold any paintings yet… she doesn't usually show anyone her work, which is why I'm completely shocked she let you into her place at all!"

"She wasn't exactly welcoming!"

"Would you be if the situation were reversed? Harry think about the way you've been with her. I know she's not the easiest person to warm to at first but you've really gone to town on getting under her skin."

He runs a hand through his already messy hair. "Yeah yeah. Look would you be opposed to me swinging by The Three Broomsticks sometime?"

"I think it'll take a lot more than a drink." Oh why the hell not Hermione? Give him the go ahead already! "She has a thing for chili chocolate frogs. There! I've given you an inside scoop. Do with it what you will! Now let's have some coffee and discuss what the hell I'm going to do about making things right with Ron!"

He follows me into the

kitchen and swear I hear him mutter "I love chili chocolate frogs." under his breath. I know you do Harry. I know you do.

~ o ~ o ~ o ~ o ~ o ~