Part XVIII
Sirius used the portkey Tom had mailed him to take Harry and Hermione to Diagon Alley the afternoon before Harry's birthday. He knew Hermione was anxious to 'get ahead' - or review, as Tom had informed him she was already years ahead of her classmates - and Harry seemed far more interested in his studies than most teenage boys. Sirius got the feeling it was a newer development, but hoped Harry knew that he wasn't going to backpedal with the adoption if Harry didn't maintain perfect marks. Sirius hadn't even maintained perfect marks, never mind James. But if Harry wanted to take a page from Hermione's book, that'd probably be better for his future.
While Harry was distracted roaming around Quality Quidditch Supplies, Sirius and Hermione trailed behind him. After a few moments of peaceful quiet, the former spoke up hesitantly.
"D'you know anything specific I should get him for tomorrow?" he asked her. "I've been putting some things away since the day Tom and I came here to sort out my vaults and such, but I'm afraid he won't be interested in the things I've gotten him."
Hermione's lips turned into a thoughtful frown that Tom's sometimes twitched into and the ex-Marauder had to resist the urge to shake his head. Given what he knew now, it was difficult to tell whether Hermione had picked up Tom's mannerisms or if Tom's younger self had picked up hers.
"I really don't think he's expecting much of anything from you, to be frank," she said after a moment. "I only saw them when I took the Knight Bus to Surrey, but his aunt and uncle seemed like the worst sort of people. And some of the things he's mentioned since I've known him just…" she trailed off, inhaling deeply as her ire rose into her cheeks. "He likes Quidditch, clearly. He's been the Gryffindor Seeker since first year. He's pretty good at Transfiguration, he's gotten better at Potions as of last year, but he started partnering with me instead of Ron towards the end as well… He's alright with Charms. He doesn't particularly care about Wizard's Chess or Exploding Snap. He seems to like animals, even though we won't have Care of Magical Creatures until next term, but he loves Hedwig dearly…"
She shrugged and sighed. "Quidditch is really the only 'thing' he does aside from school work, that I know of."
Sirius nodded, eying the boy several paces ahead of them flipping through what appeared to be an encyclopedia of skillful maneuvers and tactics. "Thank you, Hermione," he said. "You may not think it's much, but if nothing else, I know he needs to explore some other hobbies and talents. And that Quidditch supplies wouldn't be a bad thing to get a bit more of."
She offered him a small smile. "I think he'll mostly be in shock that you're celebrating his birth earnestly."
Sirius hated that she was right and hoped Tom got back to him about the Dursleys sooner than later. He blamed them for being terrible people, obscenely inadequate foster parents, and generally awful, but he ultimately held Dumbledore responsible for putting them in a position to mistreat Harry in the first place.
Still, when Harry eventually put the book down with a quiet sigh and moved deeper into the store, Sirius slipped a copy of the volume off the shelf and tucked it under his arm. He had left over wrapping paper. A few extra presents wouldn't hurt.
Hermione noticed and smiled to herself, pleased for Harry's sake.
Extra presents were purchased, shrunken, and hidden away in Sirius' pockets. He made sure both teens had a few sets of robes - casual, special occasion, and travel - and got Harry some more things to call his own. Hermione insisted her current wardrobe would suit. Sirius covertly took note of her size so he could send her a few sweaters after the two went back to school. Hogwarts was drafty for most of the year.
By the time they worked their way around to Flourish and Blotts, Hermione was eager to dive into the shelves, and Sirius chuckled as she all but sprinted to the far side of the empty store.
"We'll never get her to leave," said Harry. He watched Hermione disappear with a small smile on his face.
Sirius chuckled. "There are worse problems to have than trying to persuade a bookworm to leave a bookstore."
Sirius followed Harry to the parts of the store that interested him while Hermione browsed on her own, and was so focused on slipping books behind his back to buy Harry that he barely registered the doorbell chime. The men who entered, however, were fully aware of their present company.
"Get what you need," Tom told Severus quietly. "I have something to deal with."
And that something was the soon-to-be-fourteen-year-old counting coins in the back of Flourish and Blotts.
"Hermione," he said gently as he neared. She startled, but not as badly as she would've if he'd properly snuck up on her.
"What are you doing here?" she asked.
"Severus is getting a few spare textbooks for the school and some light reading," he answered smoothly. It wasn't a lie. He just also knew he needed to start dealing with her growing aversion to his money before it became a problem. "I noticed you three were here when we walked in."
He eyed the books on the floor around her. "Seems you're after some light reading yourself."
She shrugged, a slightly embarrassed smile on her face as she looked away. "I mean, I've certainly dug into my collection at Grimmauld, but there's always so much more waiting to be read. It's hard to choose."
"Get what you want," he said. "You don't have to choose."
She frowned at him. "But they're expensive."
He rolled his eyes and leaned against a nearby shelf. "Galleons are hardly a concern for me, Hermione, and they shouldn't be a concern for you. Get what you want."
"But-"
He held up a hand to stop her. "Please don't argue with me. You can inhale an average-sized novel in a few hours. I could give your free reign in here multiple times a week and you wouldn't spend enough for me to notice."
He watched the conflict stir behind her eyes, noted the slight clench of her jaw as she warred with her pride.
"Still," she said after a few moments. "There's no need to be unreasonable and it's not like I need more books right now."
Tom resisted the urge to sigh. "Either get used to being able to buy all the books your heart desires or resign yourself to a fate of me presenting you with all the books I come across that I think you'll desire." He gave her a pointed look. "The books I come across are worth far more than anything this shop will ever sell, for the record. The boys and I have always enjoyed collecting any and everything that catches our eyes."
Her expression, while still conflicted, became slightly teasing. "You're like a pride of dragons."
His lips twitched. "Not a clan?" he asked cheekily.
"No," she said. "Too few of you for a clan, I think. And you've got a rather niche hoard, don't you think?"
Rare dark artifacts. Books of all sorts. Dark witch spouse in training. Cursed cookware Avery found in the seventies.
He shrugged. "I suppose we have rather unique tastes."
She snorted and he smiled, inclining his head towards the books she'd been trying to choose between. "Grab those and whatever else has caught your eye. I expect to hear about whatever you've read the next time I see you."
She grumbled under her breath for a moment, but collected her books as told and hesitated beside one shelf. He waited. When she sighed and slipped two more volumes from the shelves, he gave her an approving nod.
One day you'll know better than to hesitate over trivial things like this, he wanted to tell her. He couldn't of course, but the words sat on his tongue all the same.
As they headed back towards the front of the store, Tom saw a few familiar spines and grabbed them, to Hermione's displeasure.
"Are those for you or me?" she asked, her underlying accusation clear.
"You, I'm afraid," he said. He hoped she realized he meant it. He didn't enjoy antagonizing her, usually. "They're…familiar."
She made a small noise of understanding. "For all I know you're lying."
"I'm hurt that you think so ill of me," he said, keeping his tone playful despite the unsettling effect her words had on him.
She snorted under her breath but said nothing, making Tom eye her with suspicion. She was fidgety again. He could only assume she, like he, was still bothered by their spat in the library. Only he was better at hiding it.
"I'm not cross," he said gently.
"I noticed," she muttered, puzzling him further.
If she knew he wasn't upset with her, then why was she still acting oddly?
They met the others at the front of the store. Tom noticed Sirius' worried gaze aimed at Hermione and subtly shook his head when their eyes met. He paid for Hermione's books, shrunk them down, and passed them to Sirius while he bought first Harry's purchases, then the books he'd hidden behind his back.
Tom had nearly forgotten the boy's birthday was tomorrow.
"We should get something to eat, while we're all here," Sirius suggested when everyone's purchases were made, shrunken down, and tucked safely into robe pockets. "Unless you two are busy?" he added, glancing between Severus and Tom.
Severus' response was neutral. "I'm needed at the school this evening. Some of these supplies need dealt with and Minerva is expecting me."
"Not a problem," said Tom. "I'll see you soon, I'm sure."
They parted ways with Severus outside Flourish and Blotts, and Tom was struck with inspiration.
"Would any of you be terribly opposed if we split up for dinner?" he asked. "Sirius, I know you mentioned wanting to take Harry somewhere…?"
Tom didn't add the while you were on trial, but Sirius heard it all the same.
"I'm cool with that," he said. "You two could come and we could just sit at separate tables, if you wanted."
Tom offered him a small smile. "Another time maybe. I had a place in mind myself, assuming she's agreeable…?" he trailed off as he switched his attention to Hermione.
She gave him a look that told him she wasn't buying his nonchalance, but shrugged anyway. "I don't care. I'm just hungry."
Thank you, Dove.
"If we don't cross paths before you two are ready to head home, I'll bring her back, of course," said Tom.
"Naturally. See you soon," said Sirius.
Harry and Hermione exchanged farewells as they were lead in opposite directions down Diagon Alley by their respective guardians. Tom lead Hermione towards Knockturn Alley, keeping an arm around her shoulders so he wouldn't lose her in the quickly-building evening crowd.
"We'll be cutting through a rather…unsavory area to get where I'm thinking of," he told her. "Stay close. If you so much as think you've gotten away from me somehow, scream. I never want you to hesitate to defend yourself, trace be damned."
"I really doubt anyone is foolish enough to bother us," she said slowly. "But I will."
His grip on her tightened as they turned down into Knockturn and he cast a silent, invisible shield around them. A few warning glares at too-interested bottom-feeders kept their trip short and undisturbed - thankfully. But by the time they reached the end of the alley, Tom was more than happy to slip away from the eyes following them.
"Wretches," he muttered once he'd pulled her through a secret passageway. One that was not unlike the entrance to Diagon, but subtler. They came out in a less than savory London alleyway, but still in the wizarding part of London. They weren't far now. A few turns and a brisk walk later, and Tom finally led her into a hole-in-the-wall of a restaurant. The establishment couldn't decide if it wanted to be a cozy diner or an abstract cafe. The wallpaper was peeling in some places, and other walls were exposed stone, but aside from appearing worn and battered, it was clean. There was no overwhelming scent of staleness or mold. It was warm and cozy. The bricks were smoothed from wear and the floors creaked with age, but the booths were comfortable. Though Tom would come for the food and the quaint, secluded atmosphere even if the seating was sub-par.
"Welcome to the Tarnished Coil," Tom said as they slid into a booth at the back of the restaurant.
"How did you even find this place?" Hermione asked, taking in the atmosphere as best as she could in the dim lighting.
"By chance," he said. "But I like it here. Sometimes we rent the place out for the evening to host smaller Order gatherings. Their bangers and mash reinvents bangers and mash. And I'm sure you'll be interested in the dessert menu…"
Their meal was genuinely relaxed, unlike the moments with underlying tension since their spat. He asked her how the transition to Grimmauld was, she told him how happy she was for Harry and thanked him for saving Sirius. He didn't point out that he really hadn't had a choice in the matter, since he'd been made aware of Sirius's release during his school days. She asked him about the ministry and what he was currently invested in aside from worrying about the timelines. Over dessert, a shared brownie sundae, he told her all he could about some of the notes and volumes they'd recovered from a tomb in Egypt that had taken nine curse breakers three months to get open.
When he went home after apparating her to Grimmauld and making sure she had her new books, he wasn't drowning in memories or choking on the differences between the girl he had now and the young woman he'd had once upon a time. It still stung, but he was learning how to breathe again. He could stand being around her.
He'd missed her. With his patience high, it didn't matter which her he had. Or at least, it didn't matter as much.
But it still stung.
Happy Friday!