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: Thank you to moreremusplease who pointed out an error on my part in the last chapter. In Sirius' memory I had Remus and Peter at his 'trial', which was not a deliberate change on my part to canon. Obviously Peter would be on the lam at the time and assumed to be dead, so it was incorrect. This is what happens when I write at three am. It's been changed. Thank you also to everyone who reviewed the last chapter. I thought I'd lost you all on it. Are the chapters too long?
Anyway, here's a chapter I think you'll all enjoy after the weight of the previous one ;)

Chapter Six: In The Shade

oOoOoOo

Her eyes refused to open, and it took her a few minutes of fluttering before they did. The light in the room was too dim for it to be any time past five am. She turned her head to the side, seeing Harry fast asleep beside her, his glasses on and askew. He still looked so much like the scrawny little wizard she'd met so long ago, she thought affectionately. "Harry?" She shook his shoulder gently.

"Wha-what?" he said, jerking awake, completely disorientated. He took his glasses off and massaged the bridge of his nose before putting them back on. There was a line across one side of his face from where he'd slept on the frame.

"Why are you here?" she said. "Where's Gin?"

"I sent her a patronus last night, told her I was staying here with you for a bit. Guess I fell asleep," he said, yawning and stretching. "I should probably get home, if I'm not there before work she'll be worried. You alright?"

She nodded. "I think so." They sat in silence for a while longer, both waking up properly.

"Hermione, I'm worried about you, you were pretty shaken last night. You know we've been tracking fugitives from the moment the war ended, the only difference is that they've been spotted closer to London. We're not even sure exactly what that means. It's not just Greyback. You can't let him control your life like that."

Hermione cricked her neck. "I know. I think I'm just really stressed out at the moment Harry. Work's been draining, there's all this activity, the nightmares, Sirius and I being out of sorts… I really think I just needed a good cry." With the window behind him it was difficult to see the expression on his face, but she could hear the disappointment in his voice at her excuses.

"You keep too much bottled up Hermione. Even right now, after last night, you're still hiding. You need to start trusting your friends."

"I do trust you, Harry," she said. "That's kind of the problem. I don't want anyone else to die for me," she said softly. He tilted his head with a sigh, taking her hand.

"Hermione you can't force people not to care about you. Isn't that what you told me when I wanted you and Ron to stay behind while I went hunting for horcruxes? I can't imagine we would've won without you, Hermione. Your brains and for me, your heart. You're like a sister to me and it hurts to see these walls you've put up because they don't actually change the way people feel about you, they just make you lonely and miserable." She looked away. He got off the bed, crouching and feeling around in the darkness under the bed for one of his shoes. Hermione sat up, noticing that she was still in her clothes from the previous day, and sleeping under a loose blanket on top of her bedding.

"Oh gods," she said with a groan, remembering snippets from the night before. "Sirius. He must be horrified, I cried all over him last night and I haven't even apologised for the other night."

Harry's head popped into sight. "Sirius sat with you for almost three hours last night. A few of us came to check on you and he could have left but he didn't. You fell asleep and he carried you here. I don't think he's mad at you at all. Aha!" He slipped the missing shoe on and leaned over to give her a kiss on the forehead before going to the door. "Talk to him," he pressed, before leaving and quietly shutting the door behind him.

Awake and with a couple of hours to kill, she decided to have a nice long bath. Lying in the hot water soothed her aches and pains and when she got out, she felt a bit better. She sent a patronus to work to let them know she was taking the day off. Although it had seemed like a poor cover-up, what she'd said to Harry about work being stressful was also true. Wandless magic, when used how she was attempting to use it, was literally magically draining. The greater her attempt or usage, the longer the recuperation time. That, paired with long hours of research, the lack of decent sleep and various other troubles was taking its toll on her.
As she wandered down to the kitchen she heard movements and knew it would be Sirius. She took a deep breath. Just face it Hermione. Just get it over with.

"Hi," she said, somewhat shyly.

He was standing at the coffee machine and turned to face her when he heard her voice. "You're home? I thought you'd all gone to work by now."

"I took the day off… I need to pull myself together," she said. May as well get to it.

"Coffee?" he said, holding a cup out to her. There was a softness in his eyes that disarmed her entirely.

They both leaned at the breakfast bar and Hermione smiled wryly to herself, thinking about the first time they'd both been in this position and how things had flipped. Clearly it was on his mind as well, because when she apologised 'for last night', he told her not to. "Consider it a kindness returned," he said.

"And what I wanted to say to you yesterday before all that happened was, I'm sorry for screeching at you on Saturday night. I same some unpleasant things."

"Honestly all I remember is screaming," said Sirius, making a motion around his head. "And hair." There was the hint of a smirk with that last part, she realised, and felt a flash of annoyance. "Why are you apologising anyway? I probably deserved it," he added.

"Well… you avoided me for days after. I thought I'd upset you."

"Gods no, love! Remus told me it would be a good idea to stay out of your way for a bit. And then when I saw you at the Ministry, the way you couldn't look at me." He hesitated. "I don't like feeling like I've let you down," he said so quietly she strained to hear it.

"What!" she said, and his head lifted up. "Sirius I couldn't look at you because I felt so ashamed of my own behaviour. And even more so after tonight. I've been a bit of a hypocrite."

"Really?" he said. "I hadn't noticed." When she realised what he'd said, she laughed.

"Well this is turning out to be some warped kind of déjà vu."

"Hermione, you gave me a much-needed kick up the arse – though I'll deny every word if you tell anyone I said this. The thing is, I don't think I'd be doing as well as I am now if it wasn't for you. I… I can't say that I'm always winning, but… even a second of freedom is worth more than a lifetime of bondage," he said.

"James Frey?" she asked, surprised. His smile was small but genuine.

"I need to ask you something though. Why are you hiding it Hermione?" he asked frankly.

"Why did you hide yours?" she challenged.

"That's different."

"Maybe I'm not angry or bitter Sirius, but I have my reasons. Everyone's got their own stuff to deal with. Most everyone close to me and in the Order know about it, the same as I know about some of their tough experiences. It's been six years and we tend not to talk about things unless they come up naturally. And besides I need to be strong," she said firmly. I need to take care of myself."

He frowned. "You've got so many people around you-"

"I need to not be afraid, Sirius, for my sake and theirs. My parents would have died for me, and they did. I don't want that to happen again and not because I couldn't get my shit together. We don't even know if Greyback is really heading here or if it has anything to do with me, not for sure. It makes absolutely no sense for me to be afraid. I've dealt with much worse than a single psychopathic werewolf, and I'm not a teenager any more, I should be prepared to deal with any situation that comes up. I know it's hard to understand. It's just what I need," she said, plaintively.

Trauma is not rational. Can you be prepared if you're that compromised? He wondered. She looked up at him from under dark eyelashes, wary, as though she was expecting another argument and was very tired.
He just nodded slowly. "Okay, so you've been tired and overworked and you were just overwhelmed last night."

"Yes," she said, feeling an unnamed, unspoken agreement pass between them.

"Well," he said, pushing off the counter. "If you want to make it up to me for getting my shirt all snotty, you can help me get up in the mornings." Her mouth fell open slightly. He continued. "I've got some papers next week and then after that it'll be regular work hours… It's going to be a pain in the arse getting up on time-"

"I did not 'snot' on your shirt!"

"Uh uh uh, don't make me get the evidence," he said, laughing at her stubborn pout.

"Ugh, you're an overgrown child! Are you ever going to stop antagonising me?" she asked.

He barked a laugh. "Uh, firstly, I have it on good record and testimony that I am definitely not a child," he said, waggling his eyebrows suggestively. She rolled her eyes. "And hell no sweetheart, I like that face you make way too much."

"What face?!" He scrunched up his face, looking like he'd sucked on a lemon.

"Sirius Black, I do not make that face!"

"You're doing it right now." He grinned. She huffed, her cheeks getting a slight pink tinge. They had a little standoff with their eyes.

"Ok, well I'll help you get up in the mornings," she said. "And, thank you... for everything" she said softly. She went to peck his cheek but something went completely wrong and her lips landed against the side of his neck instead. She pulled away immediately, mortified. "Oh goodness, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-" she babbled apologies and reasons until she realised he was laughing at her. She felt the blood rush hard into her cheeks again, and he took pity on her, pulling her into a hug that took her by surprise. Her heart thumped hard, and she felt lightheaded. Gods, he smelled good. She felt desire pool suddenly in her stomach and pulled away quickly.

At least buy me dinner first, witch," he joked, chuckling harder when she made a frustrated, embarrassed sound and stomped out of the kitchen. He was still snickering when she took the stairs.

There was a time when the world had been Sirius Black's proverbial oyster. He was young but had come of age, and into an inheritance from an uncle that he could live off for two lifetimes. He was also an active member of the Order of The Phoenix, which was about as close as you could get to being an Auror. He was good-looking with aristocratic features he tempered with long hair and facial hair. He oozed a debauched kind of playfulness towards life. Witches really had flocked to him; that was one part of The Legend of Sirius Black that was actually true. Aside from the impending war, life was good for twenty-one year old him. He had good friends, James and Lilly had asked him to be godfather to the child in her belly – Harry, they were going to call him – and of course, he had his motorbike.

Comparatively, joining the British Aurorship at the age of thirty-seven when some of your fellow trainees were so fresh out of school they were still battling adolescent acne, was neither glamorous nor particularly enjoyable. He was in two minds about working with Harry, since his godson also happened to be his boss. The boy whose nappies he had changed. He was relieved when the test weeks finally passed and physical training began. It was demanding and he often went home exhausted and sporting a new injury. Still, for the first time in his life he felt like he had a plan and a purpose, and it was good to be a part of the team instead of running from them.

Today they'd dueled for hours, and he was glad when they were sent home on a half day. He could do with a kip, he thought, heading to meet Harry for lunch first. He'd eventually adjusted to the hours, though getting up early would probably never suit him. Thankfully Hermione helped him get into a routine. He grinned to himself, remembering the morning of his first day in training, when she'd barged into his room at six-thirty, went straight over to his window and whipped the curtains open, only to turn to him and find him lying wrapped up in the dark high-count sheets, his bare chest and a great deal of leg on display. She'd flushed a pretty shade of pink and he'd grinned salaciously, stretching languidly. She'd hit him in the face with one of his own balled-up t-shirts.

"Hey!"

"You're shameless," she called out as she left his room.

"You like it," he'd called after her. Maybe waking up early wouldn't be all that bad after all.

"You're so spoiled," Harry was laughing. They'd forgone the Ministry canteen for a little Muggle café nearby.

"She's sadistic about it! And it's an ungodly hour," complained Sirius.

"Well that's what you get for asking Hermione, I could have warned you. She's had years practice with Ron and me. Honestly, if it wasn't for her I think the two of us would've missed all our morning classes through forth and fifth year."

"I missed so much, Harry," said said his godfather.

"You're here now," said Harry firmly. "That's all that matters. Oh that reminds me, can you babysit for us week after next?"

"Yep, no problem."

"Remus and Tonks were talking about dropping Teddy off at our place as well, if it's not too much to ask?"

"That's fine, I'll bring him with me when I Floo to yours. Do you have any tapes?"

"Tapes?"

"You know, movies."

Harry laughed. "Nobody uses VHS anymore Sirius, it's all about DVDs now."

Sirius looked bewildered and a little put out. "You mean I bought all those tapes years ago for nothing?"

"Why'd you buy them anyway?"

"Your mum and dad had a TV, we used to go over and watch them there. But wait, nobody uses them anymore?"

"Nope, sorry."

"Fuck, I tell you what though mate, it's all a bit surreal sometimes. He looked around them. I mean, I saw lots after I broke out, but it was different, you know. Was a little mad back then," he said, tapping his temple. "And it's different as Pads."

"Yeah, it must be wild. What did you think about the reno the guys did at Grimmauld?"

"The electricity? Haven't really thought of it much. Come to think of it, I don't think we use it anywhere besides the kitchen." Harry grinned. He'd suddenly decided what to get Sirius for his birthday.

"How's things at home?" asked Sirius. "My boys all good? Haven't seen them for a while," he said. "How's my god-daughter doing?"

"You saw the boys last week," laughed Harry, but Sirius' possessiveness towards his children pleased him. "Ginny's four months along now, we saw the MediWitch last week, she said everything was going along well. The morning sickness is over, thank gods." He leaned closer to Sirius. "The second trimester," he said grinning. When Sirius looked confused, he explained.

"Huh," said Sirius. "That explains so much about the state your dad was in during Lily's- why are you cringing like that, did you think you were immaculately conceived?"

"Well I am the saviour," joked Harry. When Sirius blanked he had to explain that too. He looked at his watch. "I better be getting back to the office."

"I'll walk with you, take the Floo home."

When Sirius got home a few minutes later, the house was unusually quiet. Over the last few weeks the Order had been meeting regularly. As Grimmauld was still their headquarters and the safest meeting place in general, the number of people present in the house at any given time had increased. It wasn't uncommon for the house's inhabitants to enter a shared living space only to find it occupied with any number of Order members pow-wowing over some matter. Although the Aurors were officially tracking war criminals, it was by no means a straightforward process and everyone was doing their bit, discretely. "After all, these people have been in hiding for six years with not much more than a peep here and there," Harry had said. "Clearly they know how to resist arrest, but the question is why things have changed." The going theory was that the increase in activity signaled that someone, most probably a follower of Voldemort, had taken up the despot's mantle. Everyone was trying to carry on as usual besides the extra vigilance, but Sirius could almost taste the tension in the air, it was that thick. The upside of having so much activity in the house though, was that it made him feel a bit more like he had a family but he was also itching to do some real work on the front-line.

He trudged upstairs to the bathroom, turning the heat up in the shower as high as he could bear it. His body was sore, and scattered with little cuts and bruises from narrowly deflected hexes and offensives. The water both burned and soothed him, but he felt quite good nevertheless. Proud. He'd shown the younger recruits that he deserved to be there. Even if they still had lingering doubts about his character, nobody could question his capability, and for now at least that's all that mattered. Harry had mentioned that Sirius was on track to qualify early, as they'd expected. "If it was my choice I would put you through now – god knows, we need the extra man-power – but it would be wiser to follow process so nobody can question the decision when it's made". So depending on his performance at the mid-program testing, there was a good chance he was going to be in the field in just under a month. One month of that and he'd be badged and armed with the authority he needed to get on things the way he wanted to. Each time he heard news about a new arrest or lead, he yearned to be in the field himself. His inability to do what he needed to was too similar to the time he'd spent in hiding, years ago. He'd been so frustrated, feeling so helpless. This time around, he wanted things to be different. He wanted to make up for not being there before. I just need to protect my own. Is that such a bad thing?

Wrapping a towel around his waist, he went to his room and immediately flopped onto the bed, heedless of the dampness he was transferring to the bedding. The sheets felt good against his bare skin. Maybe it was the soreness, or the quiet of the house, or both, but he felt what he'd learned to recognise as melancholy steal over him. It was the younger cousin of the deep, all-encompassing depression he'd had in Azkaban, but these days any reminder of his past hurts and regrets was too much.

He thought about Crissy. He'd met the tall blonde at a bar late the year before, and had actually considered turning their casual hook-ups into an actual relationship. He knew she was keen, and he liked her but it hadn't worked out. There was too much mystery between them, too much that had to go unsaid, that couldn't be understood. It seemed the only time they really spent together that they both enjoyed was the sex, and that was really their only point of commonality. "Give me a call if you need me, hon," she'd said when they agreed it wouldn't work out. He hadn't called her, and after turning down a few of her late night solicitations, they had drifted apart. He knew if he arrived on her doorstep right now, there'd be nothing stopping them from tumbling right back into the sack again. Just to stop thinking. You're just lonely Pads. Don't be stupid
Even if he gave into the idea – and the last thing he could imagine right now was more vigorous physical activity – he knew he'd just feel worse afterwards. Shaking his head at himself, he turned onto his stomach, star-fished across the bed and eventually drifted into an uneasy sleep.

If Hermione thought things would be different, awkward, after her heart-to-heart with Sirius, she was wrong. She still couldn't decide if she was happy about that or not. The wizard had seemed to double his efforts to get under her skin ever since that embarrassing incident in the kitchen. She'd also been tickled, grabbed and poked in the side more in the last few weeks than she had as a schoolgirl. It annoyed her that he could be serious and rational in one moment, and acting the fool the next. Hah, well if he though she was still the gawky, innocent teenager she'd once been, he was in for a re-education. This Hermione knew how to bite back. He teased her at breakfast, with the Lupins there, and she felt the urge to clip him over the ear for it. It was a rare weekend morning that all the inhabitants of Grimmauld were in the kitchen at the same time.

"What's with all these long pants and robes, Granger? I know you have prettier things," he dug, as she walked in. Hermione forced a blush down at the – unintended? – implication of his words to the others. Dolt. He was balancing precariously on the back legs of his chair, looking his usual arrogantly handsome self, and she gave him a hard nudge as she passed. He almost tipped of balance and had to grab onto the table to right himself.

"You wish, Black," she said loftily, turning her nose up at him as she settled at the breakfast bar, tea in hand. "Remus is that today's Prophet?" The werewolf passed the paper her way, watching the interaction between his best friend and Hermione with undisguised intrigue.

"Oh but I do wish, love, I wish every morning," Sirius was saying, as if he hadn't just almost gone arse over snorted. He was really an outrageous flirt. "Seriously though, that silk purple number, remember, from that night?" At that she startled, almost knocking over her teacup, and her cheeks went hot against her will. Accursed fair skin!

"Oh, you mean the night you drunkenly ogled me and then cracked your head on the wall?" she recovered smoothly, continuing to peruse the paper as though she were completely unaffected by his words. Remus coughed, spluttering tea as he tried to cover a laugh, and Tonks shot her cousin an incredulous look. Teddy, who had been inhaling sugary cereal with the gusto only a seven year old could have in the morning, piped up.

"Uncle Siri, what's ogled?" Tonks look of disbelief at Sirius turned into a glare.

Sirius, to his credit had the decency to look a little chided. "In my defense" he started. There was a long pause, as though he were actually thinking. "I am Sirius", he finished. Tonks rolled her eyes and Remus chuckled.

"Good point old friend."

"C'mon bug, let's go get dressed," said Tonks to her son. The Lupins were going out with the Potters and their kids and Teddy was thrilled.

"They haven't wasted any time this go, have they?" Hermione said, looking at a long list of names printed in the paper. It named all suspected war criminals to watch out for, there in honest black and white.

"Better that then the way it was when Voldemort came back and the Ministry refused to believe any of us." Remus saw Hermione's eyes stop briefly at one particular name. "You alright dear?" he asked her. She looked up with a small smile.

"I think so," she said. "How about you?"

"I won't mince words that I'd like to see that mongrel hung from the tallest tree," said Remus bluntly. It was always strange to hear the usually soft-spoken man when he spoke the way he was now, but for Sirius it was far more remarkable to him as to how much Remus had come to accept his wolf as a part of himself. Sure, it had taken a few decades, a lot of self-hatred, one mate, a child… But Remus was probably the most at ease with himself than Sirius had ever seen him. It certainly helped that the Ministry had changed so much on the stance of magical creatures after the war. Not by any means did his friend thank Greyback for his lycanthropy; he had decided to try to enjoy a life even with it. Sirius was actually a little in awe of old Moony.

Tonks and Teddy came back into the kitchen, both looking fresh and dressed for the day. "Ready to go love?" the Metamorphagus asked her husband. Remus nodded, draining his tea. On the way out Tonks almost knocked into a cabinet of dishware, which shuddered ominously. They both watched with wide eyes as a white china plate rolled towards the edge. There was a 'whoosh' from the living room signaling that the Lupins had left; at the same time the plate teetered and rolled right off the edge. Sirius went to grab his wand, but he was too slow with languor, and winced, waiting for the shatter. It didn't come, and when he opened his eyes, he saw the plate hovering inches from the floor. Sirius turned to Hermione to see her bare hand stretched out, a fierce look of concentration and pain on her face.
"Fuck me," he said, admiration colouring his voice. He turned to look back at the plate which she lowered down. It wobbled as it touched the ground, and she heaved a sigh, laying her head down on her hands. "You alright?" he asked, frowning.

"Yes I'm okay," came her muffled voice. "Just exhausted."

"That's the wandless magic, right? Does it do that?"

"Yes, but that's the first time I've done that. Some things use more magical energy than others… gods this is amazing, I must make notes!" She lifted her head and he was struck breathless by the fire in her eyes and her cheeks. She rushed out of the room, muttering and gesturing to herself about 'will' and 'intent' and 'gravitational forces', leaving him to question his own sanity.

Sneak Peek Chapter Seven.

"I can't believe I'm only halfway through this pregnancy!" Ginny was flushed with heat. "I've tried every cooling charm in the book and it's still not enough. Gods, you'd think I was growing a fireball in here," she said as she patted her small bump. "I can't wait until November."