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.

A/N: You lucky fishies. I may not be able to post tomorrow, so here's yet another chapter! Hope this one keeps you satisfied until the next installment ;) As always, reviews and feedback would be really appreciated. It's motivating knowing there are readers out there waiting for the next bit, and what you think about the plot/story/characters etc.

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WARNINGS FOR THIS CHAPTER:

Please note this chapter may include scenes of a sexual nature, including implied sexual activity as well as highly descriptive language, so if that's not your thing, move along.

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Chapter Thirteen: Better Together

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Sirius wasn't an Auror for nothing. Well, a suspended Auror, but still, if there was one thing he could do, it was keep secrets. Keeping the dagger from Hermione was difficult but after the scene he'd caused with Baric, her nightmares and the hard work she'd been putting into her research, he agreed with Harry. Though things were still tense between him and his godson, he had to agree that it was one less thing for Hermione to worry about that she couldn't control.

When he wasn't with her and she was leaving the house, he was to send a Patronus to Harry and she would be followed by an Auror to keep watch.

Instead he focused on making himself available, which was easy since he was at home for a full week, twiddling his thumbs. Without really talking about it, before or during, Hermione was making more use of her flexible work situation, which just happened to mean that Sirius and her were able to spend some quality time together. Just not in the house.

He could tell that Hermione was frustrated with the boundaries on their physical relationship, not least of all his fault for being all too complicit in letting situations ramp up to the very edge of even his own will power before pulling away. The upside of being away from the house and having a bit of time together was that they could actually go on 'dates'. They had to, of course, be extremely discreet about it, especially after what had happened at the pub and the Ministry. This meant staying well away from Wizarding London, and they both enjoyed the change.

Sirius, because he had always had a fascination for Muggle culture, from the minute he found out how much his mother and father hated it, as a child. Though Harry had been raised muggle as well, any time the two of them spent together tended to be in the magical world. With Hermione though, he saw things from a new perspective.

Hermione enjoyed it because it was familiar, benign, and allowed her to escape for a little while from the troubles of their world. She liked the idea of being just another couple on the high street.

Sirius liked seeing Hermione at ease. It reminded him of times earlier in the year, before the tension had ramped up.

"What about these?" asked Hermione, holding up a pair of trainers. They'd decided to get Harry muggle gifts for his birthday, which was in a few days time. To celebrate Harry had opted for a small dinner at Grimmauld, saying that the celebrations would probably extend into Sunday lunch at the Burrow anyway.

"They're that's trendy," said Sirius. "And I know exactly what would go great with them. This!" He pulled his hand from behind his back, showing Hermione a long, tailored black coat. He was smiling from ear to ear and Hermione could see the little boy in him.

"That's brill," she said. "He'll look really smart in that."

"I know!" said Sirius unabashedly pleased with his decision. Hermione couldn't fault her wizard as he did have a good fashion sense. She stepped up close to him while he was inspecting the coat.

"Oh hello there," he said cheerily when he spotted her smiling up at him. Without hesitation he leaned down and kissed her, adding a peck on the tip of her nose for good measure. Godric bless the muggles and the anonymity they provided.

"You smell so good," complained Hermione under her breath. Sirius was inordinately cocky.
"What's that you say Ms. Granger?" he teased.

"I said, I smell food. I'm hungry," said Hermione, wiping the self-satisfied grin off his face. She smirked, biting her lower lip and he smiled back in admiration. On a whim he raised his hand, stroking her cheek with her knuckles. His heart felt full, a strange, not quite comfortable sensation. He rubbed the pad of his thumb over her full bottom lip and widened his eyes when she kissed it.

"I um, I think we should go get something to eat then, don't you?" he said, heading towards the cashier. He threaded his fingers through hers, loving the flush that came to her cheeks by such a simple touch.

"So how's the research going?" Sirius asked Hermione as they shared tea at a café.

Hermione's eyes lit up immediately. "Really, really interesting! Practically, I've not made too much more progress. I'm able to do a few things now quite easily compared to several weeks ago, but I don't see what I'm doing differently. I suspect it's just the training."

"What, like a muscle?" said Sirius, popping a finger pastry into his mouth. "The more often you've used it, the easier it is to perform that action?"

"Yes actually, that's a good metaphor. Meeting with the elves was really eye-opening. I really do think that if they wanted to, house-elves could throw a total revolution and we'd be nearly powerless in comparison."

"I really hope you didn't suggest this to them," said Sirius dryly, reminding of her liberation hopes.

"Oh ha-ha," she said, though she was smiling.

"Tell me more."

"Well, I can't go into details, obviously, but I have a feeling that their power has something to do with their connection to the earth." She frowned.

"What do you mean?"

"House elves, in terms of their aspirations, their desires, the things they find fulfilling – as a species – I see a pattern of closeness to nature, to the quieter things, and obviously, to servitude. In a way even that puts them at the bottom of the totem pole, if you will. On the other hand, wizards have changed over the centuries. We live now, almost as separate from nature, which is source of our elemental magic, as muggles do. A lot of our magical endeavors are for ourselves, which isn't surprising. Our ambition is half our power and half our downfall." She shrugged.

"So what's the solution?"

"Well I've already incorporated a lot of meditative eastern practices into my training and I think it makes a difference because you have to place yourself as close to the earth as possible, bare feet, cotton clothing – that kind of thing. Sounds a bit hippy trippy, but it works."

"But you still can't do wandless magic like house elves," pointed out Sirius.

"Yes, but that's where intent comes in. Basic tenant of magic. House elves are most powerful in service of others, which for the most part means servitude to witches and wizards, but it's not limited to that. For example, what Dobby did for us," said Hermione, thinking fondly of the elf who would always have a special place in their hearts. "He apparated into the Manor, caused intentional harm to a witch and did it without an iota of shame. But, he did it sacrificially. It wasn't for him, what he did, it was for Harry. He did it several times for Harry, in fact, even when it hurt him to do so."

"Okay, so what you're saying is… wands are a natural conduit for our magic to replace our lack of connection to the earth?" asked Sirius, and was rewarded with a beam of delight from Hermione.

"Something like that," she said. "When I went to see Olivander we spoke quite a bit about elemental magic, earth magics, the properties of wands. It's a pity that so much magical origin history is lost, or unproven. My theory is that as human civilization pushed forward, we became less and less connected to our roots, almost literally. What are wands, but part of trees?"

He reached across the table to place his hand over hers, happy to see his witch lit up and at ease.

The week passed leisurely, with Hermione often working in the library while Sirius sat nearby reading, unless they popped out, always as far from Wizarding areas as possible. Over the days Sirius could almost imagine they were just an ordinary couple, without anything hanging over their heads.

Hermione, meanwhile, was distracted by a shelf of books at the far end of the library. Over the years she'd tried to have a look at them, but they seemed to be magically stuck to the shelf.

"Sirius?"

"Hmmyes babe?" He was thumbing through a book on motorcycles. It was stupid how her breath still caught at his loose affection.

"Can we look at a book? Only, I think it might only respond to you because you're a Black."

"Yeah? Of course we can look, which book is it?"

It was a tall, slim shelf behind the massive ancient mahogany desk at the fire end of the library. The book she pointed to had nothing written on the spine. "I've heard of personal family books being charmed so only blood relatives of the author can read them." She stood on tiptoes. "Look here", pointing to the top edge of the book. "See the paper? It's subtle, but you can it isn't machine cut. And I'm sure the cover is leather, hand-stitched."

"Ok. And how do we know that the moment I pull it out it isn't going to explode, or worse?"

"I've run the diagnostic spells already, and if it does do something strange, I am trained to deal with Dangerous Books," she said, primly.

"Smarty pants."

"Basically."

She touched her finger to the top edge of the spine, tugging forward. The book would not budge. "See. Nothing."

He tried, and the book slid out easily into his palm. They waited, one full, tense minute, but when nothing happened, she gave him the all clear. He took it to the large mahogany desk and sat, looking at it curiously. It was only a small book, no bigger than an average novel, and much thinner. Hermione had hopped up to sit on the desk beside him. Experimentally, she pushed the book with her finger. As she expected, it didn't budge. She tried to pick it up and it wouldn't leave the desk. She tried to open it and it stayed glued shut. "Definitely only for Black blood," she said. "What is it?"

He was rubbing the cover of the book, on which there was the old Black coat of arms. "Just looks so familiar." He opened the book to a random page, and the tiny writing and diagrams brought memories flooding back, memories from a very long time ago when he was just a child, totally oblivious to anything except his own home. "Hermione! I remember these! My grandfather used to have them out on the table whenever I came in here. This is his handwriting here, but look." He flicked through the book to the pages closer to the front. "This is my great, great uncle's work."

"Work?"

"Yes, he was a spell crafter. Grandfather was one of the last few spell crafters Britain, but he dabbled, really. People still craft spells, obviously – Snape was excellent at it, even I have to admit that – but it's really a discipline, something they used to hand down and train for in those times. Like a trade, or a calling. Not many people have the skill or patience."

"Oh, I've heard of these – apparently Pureblood families have been really diligent about handing them down. Makes it easier when the bloodline is so tight I guess – but they're family heirlooms, not really publicly available."

Sirius had fallen silent, the texture of the creamy paper, and the smell of the worn leather transporting him back in time.

"Now, Sirius, I want you to do as I do", his grandfather said, before taking position. Sirius adored his grandfather. It was still four years before he would go to Hogwarts, and the Sorting Hat would put him in Gryffindor with James Potter. Years before his family would disown him.
Grandpapa was showing him some spells that he, and the Blacks that had come before, had created. Some of the spells in the book were useful for everyday living, but you couldn't be a part of the House of Black without there being dark magic involved too.

Watching his grandfather swish and swirl his wand, sometimes yelling the spell, sometimes whispering it – his grandfather's magical power never ceasing to thrill young Sirius – the boy tried to copy the complicated motions with the swatch in his hand. He was too young to have a wand, too young to perform wand magic, but his grandfather always said practice made perfect. "The magic will come, Sirius, and when it does, you'll be ready", he had said, crinkling his weathered face at his young grandson. "This is part of our great family's legacy, my boy. Treat it with care."

The memory fading, Sirius brushed his fingers against the soft leather, over the Black family crest burned there. Toujours Pur. Grandfather, if you knew what my life has become, you'd be rolling in your grave. Before he was old enough to actually try them out, he had already been kicked out of the house, living with James Potter and his parents, but Sirius could never forget the muscle memory of those treasured moments with his normally aloof grandfather, or the way the spells rolled off his tongue, pride suffusing his nine-year old body.

It's about time the Black legacy has a little change in direction, he thought.

"How do you feel about a little experimentation?" he asked, looking up at Hermione. She grinned in response.

"What does this one do?" They were pouring over the books, taking everything in.

"That's a defensive one. Creates a protective shield in front of the caster, and hurls anyone who runs into it in the other direction."

"And this? My Latin's a bit shaky but that diagram does not look like a defensive spell." She took in the grim set of his mouth.

"No, that one is definitely not defensive. Maybe lets stick to the defensive stuff."

She considered the hundreds of books around them, some of them one-of-a-kind, first editions, the only ones left probably in the world. "I think that's a good idea."

There was a huge pile of cushions in the corner of the room that they had gathered from all over the house. "Targets", he'd said. He'd instructed her to stand across from him. They were going to test the defensive spell they had looked at earlier. Sirius would cast the spell, and Hermione would throw a cushion at him. Nodding to him, she watched him taking stance, his eyes closed as he reached back into his mind for the memory of it, and there – he opened his eyes and with a quick movement of his wand, a flat blue shield of magic appeared in front of him. He looked chuffed, it being the first time he'd actually performed this spell with a wand.

Hermione immediately flicked her wand to send a cushion flying at Sirius, and the moment it touched the shield, it repelled with such speed and force in the other direction, that it caught Hermione right in the middle, and exploding in a puff of feathers and fabric, sending her backwards on her arse. "Oomph!"

She got up, dusting herself off and turned back to Sirius. He was laughing so hard, she could tears in his eyes. She smirked evilly, and with a flick of her wand the entire pile of cushions rose up and began flying at Sirius, each one attacking him with 'Whumph' as he dodged them crazily. "Argh! Babe!"

There were feathers flying everywhere. Without really thinking, Sirius cast the repulsion shield and Hermione's eyes widened as a volley of cushions came hurtling back towards her. Her wand arm shot out "Locomotor", she shrieked, and to her relief the cushions stopped right where they were in mid-air. "Finite Incantatum" she said, and they all fell to the ground. That was the most offensive defensive spell she'd ever seen.

They met in the middle of the room. The library looked as though a duck – maybe a couple hundred ducks – had exploded in it. "Well", she said Hermione breathlessly, a little sweaty from all the action. "That's the weirdest pillow fight I've ever been in." Sirius was also breathing hard, grinning from ear to ear.
"Oh, did you girls have lots of pillow fights at Hogwarts then?" he asked, a little too innocently. She turned to him, plucking a feather out of his hair. "Pervert."
"Lolita." His eyes went dark.
"Hardly." She pulled her lower lip between her teeth, feeling her heart race again, and this time at the hungry way he was looking at her.

The door creaked open and they both turned to see Remus stick his head in, his eyes widening comically at the state the room and its two occupants were in. "I… I don't even want to know", he said, pulling the door shut.
Hermione and Sirius both burst out laughing. Hermione felt so much better; it was the best laugh she'd had in a long while.

"Erm, love, could you do one of those nifty cleaning spells you know?" he said, looking around them. There were even feathers stuck in the crystal chandelier.

She smirked. "First, my turn."

With all the time they were spending together, a confirmation of their connection, it was inevitable.

It was a Saturday, a month since they'd first kissed, and the Lupins had gone out. Neither Hermione nor Sirius had anywhere to be, a brief respite from babysitting, chores and outings. He slipped into the library, there she was, reading on an oversized, curved back chaise lounge.

Her honey curls lay over one shoulder, the bare side of her neck long, slim and soft looking. She had a lock between her fingers and was holding it under her nose like a moustache, with that little line between her eyebrows that she got when she was absorbed in something.

It was moments like these when he still couldn't believe that she was his. There had been an allure in taking things slowly. Over the last few weeks he had been learning her kiss by kiss, touch by touch, mapping out what felt good for her. He knew now how to soothe her, anger her, arouse her, make her laugh and inspire her tender care from just one touch, and she likewise had him wrapped around her little finger. He wanted more. Oh how the tables have turned. The seducer had been seduced.

He closed the door behind him and she looked up, her face relaxing into a dazzling smile when she saw him. He felt lightheaded with desire, a desperate desire. He nudged her and she shifted over a little, making space for him to sit beside her, his legs stretched out alongside hers, slim in her jeans. He reached up to grab an errant curl and tugged on it, watching it bounce. Her eyes were questioning beneath dark lashes, and he answered her with a soft kiss, his hands coming up to cup her face, stroke along her delicate jaw. She sighed, falling onto her back, and he propped himself up on one elbow, leaning over her to capture her mouth again.

Their kisses grew passionate. The book slipped out of her hand and hit the floor with a thump. Her hand was carding through the locks at the nape of his neck, his sneaking up underneath her jumper. When he reached the underside of her breast and realised she wasn't wearing a bra, he groaned, boldly cupping the soft globe. She fit perfectly in his hand, the weight, the smooth softness of her skin, the nub of her nipple under his caressing palm. She sighed his name and he moved his lips to the side of her neck. Time melted away, the library silent except for their sighs and kisses. Eventually it was she who pulled back, panting. She looked drowsy. "Don't you think we should stop?"

"I never said stop, love, I said take it slow", he whispered. Her eyes were dark with desire; she reached up to pull his mouth down to hers again. His hand smoothed over her stomach and he felt her tremble as he stroked the sensitive skin below her navel. The button on her jeans gave way easily, and he pulled the zip down, slipping his hand smoothly into her knickers and cupping her sex. She moaned, her breath hot and fast on his neck, her hips bucking at the touch, her arms coming up to scratch and clutch at his back.

She felt so smooth, bare with a tuft of curls at her apex. His mouth watered as he drew his finger through her wetness, and she cried out. She entranced him; the way her plump lips fell open in pleasure, the furrow between her eyebrows and the blush rising steadily upwards from her chest. He caught her mouth with his as he slipped a lubricated finger into her, then another, sliding them in and out, mimicking the movement with his tongue.

She was whimpering, a message that went straight to his cock, but he didn't pause, adding his thumb to roll small circles over her clit. Her hips were moving faster. His mouth open, he looked down to see his hand, dark and tattooed, disappearing into her knickers, between her creamy thighs.

"So close", she gasped, and she brought a hand up to massage her breast. "Show me", he rasped, and she lifted her jumper up, exposing one perfect globe with its dusky, taut peak to the warm air. He bent over and took her nipple into his mouth, tonguing it, alternating between flicking and sucking. Her breath hitched, her body stiffened and he felt her go tight around his fingers. He continued to move his fingers, to flick his tongue, his own hips rutting against her thigh for relief. She shuddered, arching and crying out loudly, her legs trembling as he stroked her through her intense orgasm.

Eventually she reached down and wrenched his hand from her oversensitised parts as he kissed her, unable to stop smiling, even against her mouth. She laughed a throaty, sex-drenched laugh and masculine pride ran through him like whiskey, knowing he'd caused that. He licked her wetness from his fingers as she watched, entranced, then reached for his wand to clean up, but she stopped him with her hand around his forearm, pushing him onto his back. He swallowed hard as she ran her palms up his thighs, her thumbs brushing along the inside of his legs over his jeans.

"I want to taste you", she said. Her skin was flushed from climax, her lips wet and her honey curls tumbling haphazardly around her. She was like an oasis to him, only she'd turned out to be completely real, and he was starving for a drink. His cock jumped at her words, and he nodded quickly.

She undid the button on his trousers, pulling them down with his boxers so his erection sprung out. He was an average length but thicker than she'd experienced. He was so hard he was already leaking. His pubic hair was dark, neatly trimmed. She thought he was beautiful, but kept that thought to herself, instead wrapping a hand around him, squeezing, and he hissed, his head falling back, one arm coming up over his head to desperately grip into the armrest. He was hot and heavy in her hand as she began to stroke him, her thumb sweeping over the liquid at the tip and he moaned, a delicious masculine sound, his mouth falling open, his legs tense as he fought the urge to thrust. The thick column of his neck called to her and she leaned forward to kiss and suckle and bite there while she used her hands on him. "Fuck babe, I'm not gonna last long", he confessed, in a gasp. A thrill ran through her, knowing that she had done this to him, reduced him to a quivering mess in moments.

She moved down his body, making sure his eyes followed hers. She brought her mouth to him, licking a long stripe from base to tip and taking the head between her lips, sucking gently. "Fuck, Hermione. Gods," he bit out, slamming his head against the backrest. His hips bucked and a hand came up to tangle in her hair, though he didn't pull or push.

She took more of him into her mouth until she could go no further, and started moving her mouth in a steady rhythm. He tasted good, and she moaned, sending the vibration down his cock, making him buck and curse again. It wasn't long before he was panting hard. "Baby I'm gonna cum" he breathed, and she brought a hand to the base of his cock, fisting him gently and keeping him there in his mouth, her tongue swirling. She felt him stiffen even more, and then he was moaning deeply and gasping affectionate curses as he came. When he was completely spent, she slipped her lips off of him and swallowed subtly.

Crawling up his heaving chest, they shared a kiss before she tumbled beside him, sharing the space with her body curling against his, both of them boneless. He found the taste of himself on her lips satisfying.

"I think we should start telling people. That we're together, I mean" she said. "At least some of our friends."

"Yeah", he said, breathlessly.

"Tomorrow night?"

"Yeah."

"Babe?"

"Hmm?"

"Did you lock the door?"

"Oh."

A/N: *passes out a round of iced-water* So did I earn my lemon badge? Lol