Disclaimer: Sadly, I don't own any of the Harry Potter characters. Everything belongs to JK Rowling, and I'm merely allowed to play around with them. No copyright infringement is intended.

I'm actually going to dedicate this chapter to Leo, a faithful anonymous reviewer (who should get an account, by the way) and who managed to guess what was happening in this chapter. Also, I was surprised, in both a good and bad way, when I saw the results for the last chapter. I had over 1 300 views in one day, which is huge (my last maximum was 569 views in one day), if you ask me, but only two reviews. :'( Did you guys give up on me? Anyway, on with the story.

Chapter 23

-o-O-o-

Before she left for Grimmauld place came the recurring problem that she faced every time something important came up: "What should I wear?"

She sometimes found herself shallow for thinking that, but this time, it was of capital importance. She needed to look good for Regulus. After all, he did insist that she was his. Although she didn't fully agree with him on that subject, she did take some odd sense of pride in hearing she was a sort of property that he treasured.

After throwing another dress on her bed, the one in Sirius' flat, she turned frustrated at her incapability to find something decent to wear. "Remus!" she called out shrilly.

The teenager walked inside a couple of seconds later, examining the mess she had made. When he had finished surveying the area, he heaved a huge sigh and proceeded with the usual routine. "You know, Hermione," he said after a while. "One of these days, I'm gonna be happily married and you'll have to clean your room on your own, pick out your outfits on your own…"

She sighed. "Drop the act, Remus. Your future wife could be in labour and you'd still come and help me." she pointed out.

He huffed indignantly and threw her a piece of fabric. "There, try this on. It's for Regulus I assume?" he asked, folding the rest of the clothes and putting them back in their respective drawers and shelves.

She tucked the cloth under her arm and looked at him. Remus had found out about her and Regulus at an early stage, around four months ago, if not more. "You assume correctly." she said, and walked to her bathroom. It was one of the best parts of living here, it as huge and she had her own bathroom, a luxury she couldn't afford at Hogwarts.

She changed quickly and once again silently praised Remus for his good work. The dress he'd picked was black and casual, without giving her a neglected aspect or anything of the sort. When she'd also brushed herself she thought she looked… surprisingly attracting.

After applying a small amount of mascara, she picked up a handbag and her wand (for she had passed her Apparition test with Regulus, near the end of the school year) and headed out of her room.

Sirius was the only person in sight, taking his breakfast, drinking orange juice with a buttered toast in one hand. When he saw her, he gagged and spat orange juice all over the sofa that was in front of him. She smiled. "How do I look?" she asked, twirling around slightly cheekily to give him a better view.

Sirius wiped his mouth on the back of his hand and gulped. "You look amazing, Hermione." He cleared his throat. "It's a shame you're wasting that beauty on my brother, though."

She rolled her eyes. "I think he's worth it." she told him.

She grabbed her stuff and prepared to leave, just as Sirius called out: "He's going to end up hurting you, you know?"

She left the flat and stood in the doorway, slightly annoyed at Sirius for believing such insanities. 'He'd never hurt me! You did!' she thought.

Little did she know he was very much right.

-o-O-o-

Regulus had everything ready for Hermione's arrival. She was scheduled to arrive at 14:45 sharp, and he would wait behind the door to greet her with a bouquet of roses. That was what he was doing at 14:39, just waiting for her to arrive punctually, as she always did. Then he remembered something.

"Shit!" he yelled, sprinting to the kitchen with his bouquet in hand.

He had told Kreacher to bug off somewhere so he wouldn't tell his parents that a Muggle-born had penetrated the house. That tended to make him forgetful about things he didn't always take care of, like…

"Oh, fuck! The chocolates!" he cursed. He had bought a huge box of very expensive chocolates for her, and had left them next to the cooker.

Unfortunately for him, he was cooking some lamb just next to it, and by the time he'd arrived, the chocolates had melted into a puddle.

He put the bouquet down on a table and pulled out his wand, casting a simple siphoning charm. Pleased with his work, he turned around and prepared to head back to the door when the clock chimed quarter to three.

Then, just as if she was timed like the clock, Hermione knocked three times on the door and entered. Panicking, Regulus spun around to find his bouquet, which he promptly grabbed from the table. "Regulus?" Hermione called out.

"I'm coming!" he answered, spinning back towards the door. Unfortunately for him, stress had made his hands sweaty and the bouquet slipped from his grip, flying off and landing into the pan of cooking lamb.

The bouquet, being a very big one, overweighed the pan and it toppled, clattering to the ground and spilling burning sauce and rose petals all over the floor. "Are you alright?" Hermione asked from the doorway.

"Holy mother fucking son of a-" Regulus cursed, before regaining control of himself. "Yeah, I'm fine! I just need to do something and I'll be right here!"

"I'll be waiting!" she answered, hooking her coat on a coat hanger. Regulus vanished what was left of the bouquet and the lamb, simmering in juice on the kitchen floor, and left the room.

Hermione was smiling. She looked like a goddess. Trying to hide his discomfort, he messed his hair up a little and said: "Uh… I just needed to clean something."

She nodded. "Oh… Okay." When he came closer and hugged her, she sniffed his shirt. "You smell divine. What is it that you cooked?"

He pulled away and held her at arms length. "Forget the cooking. Let's go to the library."

-o-O-o-

Regulus found it slightly odd that Hermione looked in the time travel section as soon as she arrived. When he asked her about it, she just answered: "Oh, I was just wondering if it was possible to go to the future."

He had laughed. "Hermione, I've read every single one of these books, I know better than anyone that it is impossible to go to the future. It would disrupt the flow of-"

"-space-time continuum, resulting in either the traveller being stuck in a foreign dimension and every trace of the person wiped from our universe, or and cataclysmic explosion wiping out every single thing the world holds." she recited, her nose pinched in annoyance. "I know that. But these are just theories. Nothing's ever been tried."

As she went back to her reading, Regulus wondered why she cared so much about that. It was almost as if she took it… personally.

Whatever her reason for wanting to read all these books, Regulus was starting to be really bored. At first, he coped. But then, when the room seemed to be getting tighter, the temperature hiked up, making his palms sweat, and Hermione didn't seem to notice anything, he had a much harder time coping.

He cleared his throat. "Whoa, it's hot in here. I should open a window."

He stood up to do so, but Hermione looked up from her book and called out: "Please don't, Regulus, it's too cool in here."

"But, Hermione," he wined. "It's boiling in here."

She sighed. "I said no, Regulus."

Resorting to more effective manners, he walked up behind her armchair and bent over her, as if reading her book over her shoulder. She seemed unfazed, so he passed on to a different level. He came closer to her and gently kissed her neck.

"Regulus," she half whined, half moaned. "I'm reading."

"I can see that." he whispered in her ear, making her shiver. "Let me open the window."

She shook her head, throwing her hair in his face. "No. You can do what you like, but you're definitely not opening that window."

He smirked. "You know what?" he asked her softly. "I think I like it better that way." And he placed his lips back on her neck, kissing her again.

She put up good resistance, but she was truly no match for him. She managed, at first, to resist his attacks, but as soon and the kisses became more forceful, she started to fidget. Then his hands got involved. They worked their way down until they found the gentle curve of her breasts.

She writhed a little but still refused to give in. He massaged her soft mounds and kissed her neck, long opened mouth kisses that left her tingling at the touch and shivering when his breath made them cold. He was kissing her on a spot he new was sensitive when he sucked a little. The kind of suck that would leave a mark later.

And she snapped.

But not in the way he was expecting.

She suddenly threw her book across the table in front of her and spun around to face him. He braced himself for a slap he thought might come, but never did. Instead, she grabbed his collar and pulled him forcefully towards her lips, kissing him with ardent fever.

Glad at this turn of tide, he kissed her back with equal fervour, walking around the armchair at the same time so they could kiss with nothing between them. Somehow, he managed to sit down and pull her on her lap without hurting her.

Hermione's dress came of rather rapidly. However, she quickly found it unfair and began unbuttoning his shirt. He watched, mesmerised, as she undid each button one by one and kissed his newly exposed chest. When all the buttons were off, she splayed her hands on his chest and traced the outline of his abs, staring intently in his eyes.

He shrugged off the shirt and she moved her hands to her shoulders. Slowly, still looking straight into his eyes, she moved along his arms, making this one of the most, if not the most, erotic moment of their lives. That was at least, until her fingers squeezed his Mark.

He hissed.

She froze.

Then slowly, ever so slowly, her eyes moved to his left forearm, and he knew what she saw. She saw an ugly twisted snake and a skull, the symbol of pure Dark magic, and the one of the darkest Lord that has ever walked this Earth.

She snapped her hands back to herself, clapping then over her mouth, speechless. Her eyes moved to his Mark, then to his eyes, then back and forth again. He sat there, frozen, as she whispered a single word. "No."

That single word held so much despair he had suicidal envies immediately. She sounded broken, as if her whole world had burst into shambles and shattered all around her.

And then she was gone. Off his lap, scrambling for her dress as they had discarded it so recklessly. That was when he regained his senses.

He stood up abruptly, knocking the armchair backwards as she tried to put her clothes back on. "Hermione, I can explain." he tried.

She turned to him. "Explain what?" she snapped. "There's nothing to explain. I don't even want to hear you." She pulled her dress on, grabbed her handbag and headed for the door.

"Hermione, wait!" he called out, reaching out to grab her arm. He pulled her towards him and she spun to him, landing against his hot, naked chest.

"Let me go!" she shrieked, desperately trying to free herself of his iron grip. "Let me go you treacherous, back stabbing, evil like bastard!"

"Hermione…" he whispered. "Hermione, please don't do this."

She stopped struggling and looked up at him. Through the tears of rage, he saw something in her eyes he'd never seen before.

Fear.

She was afraid of him.

As if burnt by her display of emotions, he let her go, a stunned expression marred on his face. She staggered away, turning back towards the door, which she promptly opened up. Before she stepped out, however, she called out:

"You know Regulus, I was talking with your brother a couple hours ago… He told me you'd hurt me, and I didn't believe a word he said… You proved me wrong. I hate you, Regulus Arcturus Black." And with that, she stormed out, slamming the door as she went.

If he had been properly conscious, he would have run after her, told her he was sorry a million times… But he just stood there, as if petrified by the eyes of a Basilisk.

Suddenly, his brain burst into action, and he ran out after her, going through the rooms at high speed, before slamming the front door open and yelling out: "Hermione, I love you!"

But she was gone. She was gone and she wasn't coming back. And even he knew that now.

And a gust of freezing wind hit his bare chest broadly, all Regulus wanted to do was curl up in a ball and die.

-o-O-o-

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