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Sirius slid out of the kitchen after he finished eating.

Hermione had asked him if he was okay with her staying there like he could deny her that. This is Harry's place, he had said laughing. If he is okay with two poor sods, who am I to deny you the pleasure of my company? She had seemed worried, then relieved, then worried again. The girl worried too much for her own good.

He walked out the porch to the small garden. He liked it here. Whatever they did, they had changed the atrocious garden that Walburga had kept -and that Kreacher hadn't. It had flowers that Sirius didn't know the name of, he never had been much of a herbologist, and some even bloomed in the night. There were lights flooding around, a gift from one of Harry's friends.

Luna.

Lily's voice sounded like she was smiling, if the dead could smile.

I can, the same voice said in answer to his thoughts.

"Damn it," he said, sitting down. He didn't think he could keep himself up for much longer.

Is it that horrible to hear us, the voice asked. She sounded sad.

"You are dead," Sirius said, whispering under his breath. Although the voices always knew what he thought and he didn't need to talk, it felt better when he did. It somehow made him feel less crazy. Maybe it was because he had gotten used to talking to himself in Azkaban. The images and voices of his friends had followed him there too, just like now.

I'm not a bad memory, Padfoot, she said. I am me, Lily. Your friend, sister...

"Dead."

There was silence following that. Silence was rare. Usually, there'd be a sound filling his mind: the sound of the veil. But at that tiny moment, he heard nothing.

But here, the voice said only after. It was such a faint whisper he wasn't sure if he imagined it.

He never was sure if he imagined it.

We are here, Sirius.

Sirius didn't know how long he stayed there, looking at his feet. The worst was not knowing if he finally went insane or if they really were there. He didn't hear the presence of another person in the garden until he heard the sound of glass hitting glass.

He raised his head and looked up. There, Hermione stood. She had a bottle of Ogden's in one hand and on the other, she had balanced two glasses. She was hitting them gently to each other, creating a cringy sound that made him both happy and annoyed. She didn't stop even when he looked at her.

He grinned.

"Yes?" he asked, faking a drawl.

"Mind if I join you?" she asked, stopping the awful sound she made.

"Well, witch," he said. "You and Mr Ogden, always welcome in my book."

She smiled at him. She looked almost embarrassed then, making him smile genuinely in return. Sirius wondered why knowing that she was welcome made her shy. Wasn't she aware how many people adored her?

Not many tell her that, you know, Lily said.

They are all boys! It was a new voice, this time. Sirius would snort in agreement if his heart wasn't beating so fast. It was Nymphadora.

Don't call me that!

"I didn't!"

"What?" Hermione asked, and Sirius cursed at the ghosts that decided to haunt him in his head. He could almost feel them pouting at his thoughts. They were his thoughts, though, and he didn't appreciate it being so open for them. Even if they were only accessible for the dead.

"Nothing, love," he said shaking his head. He scooted over to open up space for her. She sat down and placed the glasses next to their feet. He took the bottle from her hands, and opened it.

He could feel Hermione's gaze on him, he could see her frown without looking.

"You know that I know you are lying, right?" she asked.

He shrugged and finished serving their drinks.

"Where is Harry?"

Hermione snorted but didn't point out his abysmal talents in changing the topic.

"I sent him over to Ron," she said. Then stopped. "Well, I think Harry wanted to check on him. So I told him to go."

Sirius nodded. "So you sent your best friend to your ex," he said. "Who is gonna look after you?"

"Eh," Hermione shrugged sipping her firewhiskey. "You'll do."

Sirius' eyebrows rose and he started to laugh. She had said so nonchalantly, it was perfect. She joined his laughters after eyeing him, and before long they were trying to catch their breaths. It was absolute nonsense, of course. There wasn't really anything to laugh at.

It still felt good.

Then there was silence. It was a beautiful sort of silence, sipping firewhiskey and enjoying the dimly lit garden.

"The lights are beautiful, aren't they?" Hermione said. "Luna brought them from… Morocco, I think. They are supposed to protect the flowers from wilting. Or that's what I gathered from what she said.To preserve life, she said and I'm guessing she didn't talk about, well, immortality."

"From what I know of that one, she could be saying just that," Sirius said.

Hermione laughed. "Can you imagine, if only Voldemort went to Morocco to get some lights."

"I wonder if it'd be easier or harder to kill him then?" Sirius thought aloud. "Would we ever figure it out?"

"So Harry told you?" Hermione said with a smile.

"About the Hunt? Yeah," Sirius said, thinking the conversation he had with Harry. About the hunt, the horcruxes, and Regulus... He frowned, remembering the guilt he felt when he heard of what was now named the Second Wizarding War.

He heard Regulus sometimes too, now. In a voice that he barely recognised, more mature than it had been when he was fifteen. Was it the voice he had when he died?

"Yeah, he did," he answered Hermione, chasing the thoughts away and focusing on the now. Focusing on her instead of himself.

"I'm glad," Hermione said. "I'm glad someone knows, other than us."

Sirius understood that. The three of them had been in the thick of it without anyone to complain or run to. People who had lived that alongside you wouldn't be able to give a fresh perspective, after all. He remembered talking about Azkaban with Remus, someone who had never been there, someone who couldn't possibly understand it. Sometimes it was better that way.

"I'm glad too," Sirius said. And not knowing what made him say so, he added: "To be here."

The firewhiskey looked good just then. He took a large sip.

"I'm glad you are here too," Hermione said.

"So," Sirius said, making it clear that once again he was changing the subject. He glanced at her. "Why did you guys break up?"

Hermione laughed, but her face was strained. Sirius could almost cut the guilt that was in the air, surrounding her.

"It was me."

It was such a soft declaration Sirius' heart broke. "It's always someone," he said with a shrug, hoping she would stop blaming herself. "But it was always the two of you in that relationship, you know. Even when it ended. There is no distribution of guilt."

Hermione snorted. "He tried, I didn't. There is not much debate over whose fault it was."

"You? Not try?" Sirius laughed. "I doubt that. Ron will be fine. You guys will be alright."

"What if I destroyed our friendship?" she asked. He looked at her and saw her glistening eyes. He felt his chest constrict, saddened by her fear of losing a friend, more than a lover.

"You did the right thing if your friendship is worth protecting," he tried to reason clumsily. "Imagine breaking up five years from now, bitter from a forced relationship. Carrying so much load on your shoulders, love already turned to despise… It would not be good, or fixable, Hermione."

I think that visit to the veil matured you, Pads, he heard James' mocking voice.

Sirius finished his drink to swallow a response that would come too naturally for someone had lost his friend twenty years ago. When would he stop being the same Sirius, who was the brother of James Potter?

Never, exclaimed James, arrogant and so sure of himself.

"You are right, of course, you are right." Hermione's voice was broken, shaking. Sirius wanted to just rip the sadness out of her, with force if needed. He wanted to destroy it. "And that's why I ended it. I didn't love him like I was supposed to. Didn't want him like I was supposed to."

And she too, finished her drink. Sirius sighed and filled their glasses again. He raised his glass to toast.

"To breakups, may they bring a better future."

Hermione laughed, sniffing and with a smile tugging at the corners of her tiny lips and with tears in her eyes, she raised her glass as well.

"To breakups."

By the time Sirius and Hermione called it a night, the sun was rising. They had talked all night, draining the bottle as they did so.

Hermione had pouted when she noticed the drink was gone, and they got up. Sirius had pulled her from where she sat down, her shoes were already discarded and he had helped her find her balance with her naked feet on the green grass. They had leaned on each other to keep themselves straight. Before they had started to walk, Hermione had held onto his shirt's sleeves, forcing him to stay put. She had wanted to see the sunrise.

"I am rarely out when the sun is rising," Hermione had said. "It's beautiful."

And it was beautiful. Even though they hadn't really seen the sun, it was hidden behind the walls of the garden, and probably, behind the London landscape as well. But its presence still had sneaked between the darkness, alighting the garden, dimming the floating lights.

Sirius had looked at Hermione, smiling down at her face. "Yep," he had said. "Fucking gorgeous, isn't it?"

Hermione had laughed and agreed, even cursing herself with appreciation.

They had laughed again because it was always funny to hear Hermione Granger say damn.

Climbing the stairs had been even more laughter. He had tripped over the carpet, and Hermione, the hero that she was, had held onto his shirt pulling him towards her, causing them both to hit the railings. Laughing and grabbing at it lest they fell, they had clung to each other. Falling would have been disastrous because they had been glued together if one fell the other would have followed.

It had been Sirius that gained his composure first, so he had helped her with hers. He had held onto her waist, she held on to his arm. Together they had found their way.

He had even walked her to her room, or the room he had guessed was hers. She hadn't commented if it had been the wrong one.

"Thanks," she had giggled. "Gosh, I'm so drunk."

Sirius had laughed. "Kitten, I see two of you. Which isn't such a bad sight, I must admit. But I better go, lest I do something stupid."

Hermione had snorted.

"Pfft…" she had said waving her hand between them. "Stupid is good." Then she had leaned onto the door and opened it with her weight. "We should do stupid again."

Sirius had agreed with a nod.

"Good night, little witch."

Hermione's eyes had been brighter than the rising sun, then.

"Good night, Sirius."

Sirius was still standing there long after the door had closed. He had put his forehead on her door, trying to make sense of what he was feeling. Trying to stop nausea creeping in his stomach, trying to make the world stop turning so noticeably, trying to make sense of his anxiously beating heart. Trying to make sense of it all.

He had dragged himself to his room, not knowing when. Maybe it had been a minute that he stood there, maybe an hour.

Perhaps a day.

Now, lying in his cold bed, he didn't know what had happened. He didn't remember what they had talked all night, what remained were only glimpses of her.

He wrapped himself within the bed cover. He thought there were the whispers of a lullaby, just as he fell asleep, that he had heard so long ago. Maybe it was him dreaming. Maybe it was the dead.

Maybe, it was Hermione.

Many thanks to Kreeblim Sabs for being amazing and reading this story before everyone!

Synoir