Disclaimer: All canon characters, places, plots and situations from the Harry Potter Universe belongs to J.K. Rowling. I make no profit from this.

Warnings: Rated M for language, violence and scenes of a sexual nature in later chapters.

A/N: I'm posting this chapter a day later than I intended to because both my cat and I are ill at the moment and he's a diva on good days. I usually write in the evenings and that's also when he decides to come home from his daytime meandering and he has a lot of rules about what can and cannot happen at that time. For example I must not play the guitar, or sit at my computer. I must be in a place where he can sit squashed up against or poured over me, and once we (he) is comfortable, we (I) must not move or we have to start the whole rigmarole over again. I love him to bits though and he's old so I like to be there for him the way he's been there for me. Pet lovers will understand.

Chapter Three: Thawing Out

oOoOoOo

Hermione walked down the dark hallway towards the Department of Mysteries, her heels clicking loudly on the black tiled floor. At the very opposite end a black door leading to the entrance chamber she had first seen as a child, the very night that Sirius had fallen through the Veil. As she closed the door behind her, the circular room spun and when it stopped, she whispered an incantation that lit up the door to the office. Even after two weeks back at work she was enjoying being behind her desk again. Although her travel had been an experience she wouldn't take back, it was a demanding way to live, socially and psychologically, especially for someone like her who liked things just so. She remembered one particular visit to Mongolia, where her destination was so remote, the closest things she had to companions – apart from her extremely reserved hosts – was a herd of goats. Compared to that, the prospect of her desk with all her notes in one place was extremely attractive.

The office for the Unspeakables was actually a large room with a domed ceiling carved out of solid rock, with pairs of workspaces dotted around its vast circumference. The effect was that of a cavernous underground ballroom with desks waltzing around the outskirts. There were only four sets of workstations accommodating two people each. Hermione's favourite thing about her office was the bookshelves that lined every inch of the wall, going up two stories. Here were stored all the documents, reference and magic books her little heart desired.

"Good morning lovely," greeted her station-mate, Marietta. Tall, blonde and blue-eyed – the complete opposite of Hermione herself – Mari wouldn't have been out of place in a catalogue for expensive robes, but she was also a very highly skilled Potions Mistress. "I tell you what Books, it was rather boring around these parts without you here for so long. It's brilliant having you back," said Mari.

Hermione gave her friend a cheery smile. Although being co-workers in a fairly secretive department made it difficult to form relationships that translated easily outside the workplace, within these walls Hermione couldn't imagine sharing her space with any of her other colleagues. Especially not the dark-haired man across the room currently shooting glances her way. Unsubtly. Mari gave her a knowing look.

"So what happened between you and Kris?" she asked, leaning against her desk as Hermione settled at hers. Hermione had dated the guy very briefly the year before, and dating a co-worker was a mistake she would never make again.

The chamber was spelled not to carry sounds or echo, but the women lowered their voices out of habit. "He would only talk about work", Hermione whispered. "At first I thought it was just nerves. I mean, we're both Unspeakables, it seemed a natural subject to help us ease into the date… but that's all he would talk about. Literally. Every time I tried to talk about something else we would somehow come back to how incredibly intelligent he is, how he got to this job. Seriously, we work in the same department!"

Mari laughed, a low melodious sound. "Go easy on the guy Hermione, most of them don't really have much to brag about and you're intimidating." Hermione rolled her eyes. She hated hearing that about herself, even when it came from Ginny.

"You're scary Hermione, brilliant but scary! You're a war hero. Harry Potter is your best friend and everyone knows you're more than just a brain. Circe, you've ridden a dragon! Most of your friends are celebrities."

That's what irked Hermione the worst. She understood that being at the epicenter of a war would create interest; it was one of the reasons she had been able to become an Unspeakable at such a young age, why Harry already led his own Auror Team. Both were the youngest in their positions, but then they had cut their teeth on the sacrifice of their childhoods. What she hadn't been prepared for was the celebrity. One of the reasons she loved her job was that she was out of the public eye on a daily basis. Her work was a haven to her, a place and subject she could disappear into. Dating a co-worker had stirred the pot.

"You think I should give him another chance?" she asked Mari, feeling guilty.

"No way," said Mari, and Hermione stared at her.

"But you just said…"

"I said that you could afford to be a little more lenient in your dating method, but he's all wrong for you Books."

She suddenly found herself in the strange position of defending her choices. "He's intelligent, polite, discrete, good-looking-" She ticked the attributes off her fingertips.

"You mean, book-smarts, boring, pretty faces don't last and you've already said the conversation kills you. And I promise you darling, it's the quiet ones that'll stab you in the back."

Hermione knew all too well the backlash that followed her love life. Celebrity attracted all the wrong kinds of men. The types who just wanted to be seen on her arm, to display her as a trophy, get close to the Golden Trio, or get their fifteen minutes of fame in the Daily Prophet. Men who just wanted to brag that they had bedded Hermione Granger. She had learned some difficult lessons in the few years following the war. She sighed, crossing her arms on the desk in front of her and resting her forehead on her hands. "It's so hard to meet anyone," she whined. "Sometimes I wonder if there's any point, I'm fine by myself." She looked up to see Mari giving her another one of her knowing looks. She was good at that. It was annoying.

"Darling it's hard for all of us, but you're a whole other story."

They had had this discussion before, about what being surrounded by such high profile men wasn't doing for her love life. As if she weren't intimidating enough, she had more than a handful of 'brothers' who felt protective about her and this, ironically, had the unfortunate effect of scaring off any nice guys that might be interested in pursuing her.

"Well what about you?" she said, inspired, eager to take the spotlight off herself. "What's happening in your love life these days?"

"Not much going on," said Mari, but her cheeks tinged pink, to Hermione's surprise. Mari was not a blusher.

"Godric, you're actually lying to me," laughed Hermione, scandalised. "Who is it?"

Mari sighed, looking completely torn. "I can't tell you right now… he's kind of well-known and it's new, so we're keeping it quiet."

"This sounds serious," teased Hermione. "Are we talking marriage material?" she asked, knowing exactly how much Mari disliked the 'institution of marriage'.

"Hermione Granger you've got a dirty mouth," Mari protested, the two of them giggling like schoolgirls as they set about their work.

Two more weeks went by and she was still haunted by a gigantic stack of paperwork on her desk each day. By the end of that Friday, she was bursting for her daily run. The moment she donned her running gear and apparated into the park, she immediately felt a sense of peace wash over her. Unfortunately, it did not last. Ten minutes into her run she had felt the eerie sensation of being followed. The sun was setting and the shadows growing deep. She threw glances behind and around her, pressing her elbow against her hip for the security of her wand. There was suddenly hard panting and she turned around, shrieking as a large black dog came running up behind her. She fumbled to pull out her wand. 'Oh Merlin this is it', she thought, 'survived psychotic Dark Lord, ripped to shreds by man's best friend'. How embarrassing. She braced for an impact that never came, and when she opened her eyes the dog had bypassed her entirely and thrown itself on the grass beside the path, writhing stupidly on its back with the widest doggy grin she'd even seen. Then she recognised him. Padfoot!

"Oh you horrible man!" she said, half-laughing with relief even as her eyes watered involuntarily. Her heart was pounding so hard she could hear it in her skull. Padfoot sat up, cocking his head to the side to look at her, and the second her hand twitched towards her wand he set off running down the path at breakneck speed until he was just a black smudge in the evening light. Ooh he made her so mad!

Sirius had improved so much since their talk the day after last Christmas and she was proud of him, but she'd never say it. His head was big enough as it was. He was also a bloody menace who took perverse delight in seeing how far he could push her. He was an incorrigible flirt, as arrogant, vain and reckless as ever and she had become a popular target for his amusement. She could also tell that at least some part of his effort to reconnect with his friends came from that place of guilt. He still went out most nights and swilled Firewhiskey like mouthwash, and spent most days lounging around Grimmauld, complaining that he was bored. Not everything was the same though; he was also more thoughtful, responsible and of all things, intelligent. Not that he wasn't smart, but she'd never realised how much he actually knew. She remembered the day he'd brought home a second-hand box of Scrabble, surprising her with it in the library.

"Where'd you get that?" she'd said.

"Muggle flea market," he responded, and asked her if she'd like a game. She'd perked up at that. Apart from Remus, nobody else really enjoyed games like these. "If you're sure," she'd said, borrowing a little of his cockiness for a moment. "I am terribly good at this game though, you sure you want to play?"

Twenty minutes later Hermione had been eating her words. They were both lying on their bellies on library floor, the board game between them. Sirius had just placed down three letters and scored no less that twenty-four points. "How in the world do you know that word," she'd said, her mouth running ahead of her brain as it often did when she was especially surprised.

"So amazed, love", he'd laughed. "I do read, you know." She'd blushed at her tactlessness.

"But then, why do you speak like… like… Jack Sparrow?" she'd exclaimed, exasperated.

"Who?"

"Ugh, never mind. Muggle thing. Let's take a break, I'm starving."

He was still looking at the board. "I think," he said, rearranging some of his letters. "That I am disinclined to acquiesce to your request." He grinned naughtily at her as her jaw dropped and she'd smacked him on the shoulder, making him duck.

"Sirius Black you terrible liar!" He'd laughed then.

Remus said that they'd been spending more time together, and Harry was also pleased that his godfather had taken an interest in his family again. "Gin's a bit cautious after last year but he's amazing with the kids Hermione, you should see it." Work had kept her so busy that as they neared the end of February it'd been almost a month since she'd gone to a Burrow Sunday lunch. It was a lucky thing that Harry worked in the same building as she did, as they were able to meet for lunch in the canteen, something they did as often as possible. "It's really nice seeing how good he is with them," continued Harry. "I think it's good for him too. He never got to be the godfather he wanted to be with me."

"How's Ginny doing?" asked Hermione. The red-head was pregnant again, and from the sounds of the Floo calls she'd been having with her friend, she was miserable with morning sickness.

"It'll clear up in a few weeks, it was the same with both the boys," said Harry.

"Poor Gin. I wonder why they call it morning sickness when it happens all times of the day and night," mused Hermione.

"No clue, all I know is that it's bloody hard at the moment. I'm working overtime, she's feeling so wretched and it's even more difficult now with two boys. Molly takes them a couple nights here and there, but we don't really want that, you know how she works herself to the bone and it's not like there isn't at least one grandchild at their house every night. I've no time to fuss over Ginny," he said. "I think she's feeling a little neglected."

"What about Sirius?" asked Hermione. "He's been babysitting a bit for you guys, right? What if he took them for a night and you could take Gin somewhere nice?"

"That's not a bad idea," mused Harry, taking a sip of his tea.

"You look like you need a night off too," Hermione said, taking in the dark circles beneath Harry's eyes.

"I'm working over-time with all this," he looked around before lowering his voice. "We raided a house in Kimpton last week, found three vampires who fought for Voldemort. They were hiding in a back room, gods the smell Hermione. There was a couple living in the house, the husband was bringing them people, beggars off the street, homeless folk- oh, sorry Hermione," he said, as she turned a little green over her sandwich. "We probably wouldn't have even known it wasn't a report in the Muggle papers. They're becoming our best source lead for these guys."

Hermione sighed, feeling her shoulders cramp. Harry reached out to place a hand over hers. "We're getting there Hermione."

"Sorry," she said. "Here you are risking your life as always and I'm the one complaining. I just wish it could all be over, you know? Six years later and Voldemort's still got us running."

"This was my choice Hermione, I knew what I was getting into when I joined the Aurors. There's always going to be dark wizards out there."

"I know that," she relented. "But I wish it was more Mundungus Fletchers instead of Death Eaters, you know?" He grasped her hand, squeezing understandably.

"How… how are the nightmares?" he asked. "Getting worse?"

"Yes," she said, her voice soft and miserable. "It's horrible, and last week I forgot to cast a Muffliato before I went to bed, and of course, I have a horrible one and Sirius heard everything. Harry, he came running into my room thinking I was being attacked. It was embarrassing." She remembered the awkward moment when she'd woken up and nearly punched him in the face.

"Hermione." Harry was sympathetic. "You have nothing to be embarrassed about, especially not that."

"I know, I'm being a complete hypocrite. It's just… I didn't want him to see me that way. I don't want anyone to see me that way but with Sirius it feels worse because he manages to twist things so it's his fault in some way, for not being there in the war."

Harry swallowed a piece of pie. "If you ask me, I think the both of you could really do with a distraction."

"What do you suggest?"

"Well he needs to find something to actually do with his time, for one, and you, my friend, need a date."

"Here we go," said Hermione, stabbing a piece of scone with a fork. "Harry honestly, Ginny's already given me the speech, I don't need another one from you."

"Look I know, but we just want you to be happy Hermione."

"Maybe my happiness will be different," she said. Harry studied her.

"Well," he said, getting up and hugging her. "Come by the Burrow Sunday. We haven't had you around in so long and everyone's been asking. I think it'll be fun."

That evening she went for her run, taking a long route around the lake. She heard a soft bark and slowed down, turning around to see where it came from. Padfoot was there, wagging his tail slowly and looking at her. "Oh come on then," she said, starting off again, and a few seconds later the big black dog was running to heel beside her. As annoying as he could be, she was glad for the company. Having him there made her feel a little safer, although she would never admit how much the discussion with Harry on recent developments with the Death Eaters had affected her. The black dog was a familiar site on all her runs after that; sometimes Padfoot would even accompany her from Grimmauld and back. But he would never turn into Sirius.

Despite his aggravating need to antagonise her, Hermione thought it was quite nice having another friend in their group who wasn't partnered up. Or under the age of ten. Although she had become so accustomed to the changes children brought to their motley little family she knew how difficult it was for Sirius who was new to everything, including how to deal with being left in the middle of conversations because of child related emergencies. Naturally they gravitated towards one another, and their conversations stretched from the intellectual, the antagonising, the philosophical – another thing she learned about Sirius that surprised her – and often just plain silly.

He would lounge against a wall with her, each of them with a glass of wine in hand. "Is it just me or does Percy strike you as a cross-dresser?" She would pretend to be scandalised for the sake of loyalty, before agreeing it was quite possible. "Do you think he does it in the bedroom, and Audrey dresses up like a bloke?"

Splutter. "Don't put pictures like that in my head!"

"It's not my fault you've a gutter-brain, love."

"Me! You're the one that turns every innocent comment into an innuendo. You're a lewd man Mr. Black." Single-fingered poke to the admittedly well-muscled arm.

"All I said was that whenever Charlie talks about his dragons, it also sounds like he's talking about other blokes co-"

"Sirius."

"Hermione."

"You shouldn't tease him like that you know."

"It makes him smile. Besides, it's fun making Weasley's blush, their cheeks match their hair." He got a punch to the arm for that.

She had to admit that it was nice to be remembered when everything was about couples, marriages and babies. She supposed on some level, for her at least, jealousy was involved. She'd chosen to prioritise her career but she also knew that she hadn't taken much interest or made too much effort dating after Ron and her had ended their short-lived relationship. While Harry and Ginny were positively childhood soul mates, and Ron had grown to be quite comfortable around women, Hermione continued to find it difficult to connect with strangers. Which, considering the utter failure of her few attempts, wasn't so hard to believe. Not that she'd been celibate, but she'd never had a relationship that lasted longer than a few months. While she'd been abroad it'd been easy to forget about it because she was so caught up in her work and fascinating new experiences. It had been easy to forget about so many things actually, she thought. The nightmares had been few and far between. Coming home, as much as she loved her friends, reminded her too much of all the things she would never have.

Sneak Peek Chapter Four.

"That's very nice dress, Ms. Granger." His voice, warm and husky beside her ear made her jump. She whipped around, ready to reprimand him.