7

Again.

That last little push to have something that you already had, to do it once more. Life was of moments like that. If you lived something good, you wanted to repeat it, cling to it.

Again.

Sirius could separate each part of his life to different episodes. The first great change had come when he had discovered those Muggle kids his age to play with and that it changed his entire life in a blink of an eye. Before that he had never realised that life was so changeable, so outside of routine. Before his playmates were discovered by his parents, everything had been alright. His mother had always been scary, but until they discovered he was a little blood-traitor-to-be it hadn't really affected him.

Then there was his Hogwarts years. He had started a new life the moment he stepped into that train that took him away from his monsters. After Hogwarts, there was the war and finally Azkaban, and then there was his life with Harry as its focus. He could separate and analyse each episode of his then short life.

Then came the Veil.

Sirius sped up in his motorbike, finding his way on the open road, getting ready to lift the wheels up in the air, but not yet. Because, then had came the Veil.

It was a non-existent part of his life. There were no memories that he brought back with him, and Sirius was partly glad that it was that way. Still, there was something strangely disturbing about waking up, and realising in between your two consciousness was an eight year gap.

It was almost like waking up with a hangover that left a blank spot in your memories of the previous night. The amnesiac feeling that bothered him, although, he knew very well the opposite would be even worse. Sirius didn't trust himself enough to think that his mind would have survived the ordeal if he had remembered the Veil.

He wondered sometimes if there actually would be memories at all to experience? Maybe that was it. Maybe it had been nothingness, after all; maybe there was no gap in his mind and his mind remembered whatever it exactly was.

But then again, he had returned.

Unexpectedly and by surprising everyone, causing an Unspeakable to reportedly have a fainting episode in fear, he had returned.

To live again.

With a final push Sirius took his bike to the air. The lift up was the best part, undoubtedly, that sinking feeling in his stomach as his hair flew behind him.

To live again.

It was no longer an episode. It was a sequel, it was a new life, not a continuation.

The realisation didn't bring happiness, nor sadness. Sirius had loved his life before Azkaban happened and despite the war. After he escaped Azkaban there had been moments that he had thought he could be happy despite it all. All those were moot now, though.

Yes, he had his memories of his past life and they still defined him. He was still himself, Sirius Black; the Marauder, friend, godfather, animagus, Gryffindor, the son disowned -whatever he had been back then, he was now.

But he wasn't those things still, he was those things again.

Sirius didn't think his situation need to make him happy for a second chance, but it didn't need to make him despair because he had one, either. He just needed to live.

He inhaled deeply, realising that it wasn't hard to breath at all.

xXx

"Sirius."

Harry's voice cut through Sirius' thoughts that ran around his mind, leaving a debris of insecure confusion mangled with bitter resentment and voices that doesn't belong there. He tore his eye away from the window and allowed the curtain to close off.

"Yes, Harry?" he returned his godson and looked at him.

"Are you waiting for Hermione?" There was an edge of annoyance and humour on Harry's voice, the cocky disbelief towards something senseless that James had portrayed so often. He once knew how to respond to that tone so well in his previous life, in this one he didn't know what to say.

Sirius wanted to be surprised by his question, to be able to wonder how he came to that conclusion to begin with, to be able to deny it and meaning it, too. But he was waiting for Hermione, glued to the window, unable to stop himself from worrying.

"Should I not?" he asked instead.

"I think she was meeting with someone," Harry said. "She told me she was going to be late, so, yeah. You should not."

Sirius' heart constricted. Meeting with someone? Who?

Sirius didn't ask Harry. It wasn't his place. He could play it that he was concerned, everyone who lived through a war could be a little too vigilant, right? Just in case.

But it would be a lie, since he didn't feel worried and nervous because Hermione could be in danger. It would be way too convenient, but, oh, no. He was worried and nervous because Hermione Granger had a date, and Harry didn't even tell him who.

Well, I know who, came the smug voice of Tonks.

Don't tell me, was the thought came into Sirius' head that belong to him, followed by, please, tell me. I need to know -no. Don't. Fuck. Stop.

Calm down, Tonks chastised. I'm sure it'll go horrible.

He is as boring as the forgotten china in my grandmother's cabinet, Remus snorted.

Don't worry your pretty little head over it, Tonks said to Sirius.

You two are ruining all the fun, Regulus cut over. Stop giving him clues about his life. Are they always this gossipy?

Well, Remus always was, Lily's voice said with a sigh in response to Regulus' question, that was clearly asked to her. It was strange to think Regulus Black befriended Lily Potter in the Afterlife.

"Sirius?" Harry's voice cut through the others, louder than others, and Sirius clinged to it.

He hadn't even noticed his eyes were closed. He opened them and looked at Harry.

"I'm fine," Sirius said defensively. "I worry. It's not like her."

"We don't know if it's like her or not," Harry said, a sensible and sound voice that appeared without you expecting it, surprising Sirius whenever it did. The voice of a grown, mature man. Something James never had a chance to fully become, something Sirius didn't know if he was. "What with being in Hogwarts for seven years with a curfew, then war, then a steady relationship... We don't know if Hermione enjoys going out by herself and date around. I doubt it if she knows."

Sirius sighed. Harry was right and wasn't that a great reason to stop himself from going after Hermione.

Au contraire, James piped. She could learn it with you instead of dating that tosser.

Aw, James, the kid is not a tosser.

Fuck he isn't.

You just say that because he is after Sirius' girl, Lily said.

Damn, right.

Sirius chuckled. He couldn't help it. It was funny, really, because James had always been like that.

"Sirius, you are drifting off again."

"Sorry, sorry… It's just that I'm tired, Harry," Sirius said.

"You are lying to me." It wasn't a question and Sirius wished he had a good come-back to argue against this, too. Why did Harry have to be so spot on? He could be the most oblivious person on the planet, until he wasn't, and when he noticed things he noticed them like the absolute truth they were and it scared Sirius.

He didn't want to be found out.

"Is there something going on between you and Hermione?"

Sirius' eyes darted to Harry and all the voices were suddenly silent. He could sense their excitement, wondering how he'd respond.

"Like what?" he asked, cursing himself. How did one decline such a question. Which was the believable way? To deny it right off the bat or to act like you didn't understand the phrasing like it was the furthest thing from your mind?

"You… I like that you care about her, but," Harry stopped, seemingly considering what he'd say next. "Is it because she is your friend, or is there something there?"

Sirius spotted the bottle of firewhiskey on a tiny table by the corner and walked towards it. He couldn't lie to Harry, not to him. Maybe that was why it was hard to decide what to tell. Maybe that was why he was afraid he'd ask questions.

He took out two glasses and filled them generously. He could feel Harry's eyes watching him.

Sirius gave Harry's drink to him, and his godson held the glass. Sirius didn't let go and looked into his eyes.

"There is something there," he said, and he dropped his hand. He turned and downed his glass, filling another one as Harry stood there.

"Sirius-" Harry began, but he cut him off.

"I know. There shouldn't be."

"I don't know about that," Harry said with a sigh. "I just care that you two are alright. That's all I care. That's all I've ever cared. So be careful."

Sirius didn't know what to say to that.

Be careful. Start already. Live.

"How do I be careful with something like that?" he asked, feeling strange about asking relationship advice to Harry of all people.

Harry shrugged.

"Hell if I know."

xXx

Sirius waited.

He drank up a sober-up potion when the clock hit two in the morning, because by that time he was properly pissed, and if Hermione had come then, she'd have a drunk Sirius on her hands.

Sirius didn't want that.

He didn't drink after that, he just waited. Sleep was impossible. Sleep would be an anomaly when feeling like this. Strangely, his mind was silent. Not completely, there were whispers still, as if he was in a tunnel, and on the far side of it people were talking in hushed voices. He was still grateful to not hear what they were saying.

He was grateful for the illusion that he had his mind just to himself, even for this night alone.

When the door opened he got up from his seat like a spring. He halted, though, aware that if he'd run to her, it'd be weird.

He wanted to run to her.

His ears perked, listening her movements. He heard her sniffing.

That didn't sound good.

Fuck it all, he thought and walked out of the drawing room and there she was, by the stairs, taking her jacket off, eyes downcast.

"Hey, love," he called for her and she looked up. That was when he saw that she had been crying. He walked up to her, his heart beating a strange rhythm.

For some wretched reason seeing him didn't make Hermione smile, and Sirius didn't know why he wanted that to happen, but it was the better alternative of her averting eyes.

He touched Hermione's shoulder softly. "It's okay," he said. She shook her head. "Yes, it is." He pulled her against himself, enveloping her tiny form. "I got you, love."

Her shoulders shook as sobs escaped her.

"I hate myself."

Sirius' heart broke. Never in his life he wanted to hear those words again. Never again.

He separated himself from her, and looked into her eyes, bringing himself to her eye level.

"No, you don't, Hermione," he said and took the jacket she was still holding, hanging it over the railings. He held her hand. "Come," he said and started to climb up the stairs.

"Where are we going?"

"Library, of course."

Hermione sniffed again. "Why?"

"Because you like it there, it grounds you."

When they entered the library Sirius made her sit down, taking his place next to her. He placed his arm over her shoulders and pulled her head to his shoulder. Hermione followed suit even though a bit stiffly.

"Tell me."

And Hermione did. She had accepted the date because she figured that it was time. And the guy had been a gentleman, and she went to his home. They had sex.

Sirius tried not to die over that fact.

"Do I need to kill him?" he asked playfully. Hermione jerked and looked at him, and Sirius got serious. "Don't look at me like that love, you return from a night out, crying over the fact that you got laid. Did he do something to you? Just say yes, and I'll kill him. You know I will. No questions asked."

"No, of course not," Hermione said.,

"No of course not about it, kitten," Sirius said. "Just making sure." He started to play with a curl hanging above her shoulder. "I've got enough reasons to want to destroy the bloke as it is, however a gentleman he was."

Hermione laughed and hit his shoulder playfully.

"I just felt horrible afterwards," she said. "I felt nothing for him. Nothing. And Ginny always goes around and has sex with whomever she wants, and why can't I do the same? I'm single. But obviously, I'm not Ginny. Nor Harry, for that matter. No one seems to have a problem about that, but me."

Sirius frowned, understanding what she was saying. He had been feeling similar, wasn't he? Since he had returned, Sirius too tried. But in the end, it always felt so meaningless. So hollow. He pulled her back to her place leaning on his shoulder and relaxed on the settee, feeling good when Hermione tugged her feet under herself as she did whenever she relaxed.

"No, you aren't anyone else," he said. "You, my little kitten, are made for something entirely different."

"And what is that?"

"I guess, we'll have to figure it out," Sirius said with a smile. She looked up to him, her breath too near.

She slowly reached, or maybe it wasn't so slow but Sirius' perception had become warped suddenly, because she reached towards him. She touched his hair, a feel so fleeting, and he looked down at her.

"Together?" she asked, and there was such a vulnerability in her voice it thundered in Sirius' ears. He nodded, unable to talk for his throat had closed up.

He wasn't even sure if he was breathing.

He hoped that she wouldn't notice how hard the thought of her made him.

"Together."

Long time no see!

Again, thanks to Kreeblim Sabs for alpha-reading this story and her enormous support!

I hope you'll enjoy this chapter!

If you have questions reach me over tumblr, where you can find me under the same username: synoir

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Oh, and happy belated V-Day to you all!

Synoir