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: So... hi. I thought I'd just sneak in and leave this here, but it isn't that easy, lol. To those who are still following, thank you and I'm so sorry it's been so long. My new job ate my life. I'm more settled in now, but the workload is intense so I don't want to make any promises about updates. I do have this entire story planned out and most of it written, so it will be updated.

Thanks for your reviews so far, I'd love to know how you feel about this chapter since I've come back to the story after a big break.

Enough of my blabber, onto the characters we love.

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WARNINGS FOR THIS CHAPTER:

Please note this chapter includes scenes of a sexual nature, and suggestive language.

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Chapter Eighteen: Living every Moment

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"Lllm." Hermione awoke in the middle of the night to find herself spooned around her wizard, who was mumbling in his sleep. "Jaayy…Nuh…" He jerked violently. Her arm was clammy where it hugged to his sweaty chest. Blinking, she leaned up to peer over at him. His forehead was dripping with sweat, black locks stuck to his skin in clumps.

"Sirius, wake up," whispered Hermione, rubbing his arm. He just mumbled.

"No no no, Harry! I didn't, I didn't," he sobbed suddenly, and Hermione gasped, shaking his shoulder more roughly. "Wake up!"

His eyes popped open and Sirius bolted upright, his hand immediately shooting out for his wand. Hermione flinched, but he stopped hard and just stared at her, as though confused, then looked around the room, his chest rising and falling heavily. She gingerly laid a hand on his arm, and he turned back to her. The raw grief in his eyes made her own eyes burn. She stroked damp hair back, away from his face. "It's okay," she said. "Harry's going to be okay."

Sirius nodded and fell back, staring up at the ceiling, his throat working.

Hermione rubbed her eyes. Harry had been hurt, and even from the little she'd heard, she could guess what Sirius had been dreaming about. "You carry too much guilt," she murmured, but if he'd heard her, he didn't say. The last few hours had been some of the most intense that she'd experienced since the war.

Harry had been on a mission with a small team of Aurors when they'd been ambushed. It wasn't even meant to be a sting, just a routine investigation of the neighbourhoods that had come up in their searches frequently.
It happened when a rookie, Peterson, went in the wrong direction and Harry had to go after him. The two were cornered by three masked wizards, and though Harry had intercepted curse after curse, they'd been overwhelmed. By the time the rest of the team caught up with them, Harry and his rookie were both under Crucio.

Peterson wasn't in the best condition, but he was lucid enough to explain what had happened. Harry, on the other hand, had been attacked by two of the wizards at the same time, and for a few of the more horrid hours of their lives, none of them knew if he would ever wake up again.

The wait at St. Mungos was agonizing. Everyone refused to go home, and Albus and James clung to their mother, refusing even the attention of their grandmother. Ginny, ever the epitome of strength, had held her boys to her, her eyes red-rimmed but dry.

When, after a few hours, the Healer came out to tell them that Harry had woken up and that they were positive about his prognosis. Ginny had then burst into tears, which set Albus off wailing, which overwhelmed James who began bawling and would only be comforted by Sirius. The relief was palpable, but so was the fear.

Only Ginny would be allowed in to see Harry then, so the rest of them made their way back to their respective homes. Sirius had been deathly quiet from the moment the four residents of Grimmauld returned home by Floo, and they'd dressed for bed in an exhausted silence.

Hermione looked down at the man beside her. His eyes were growing heavy, and she gently stroked his hair back, the motion lulling him back to sleep.

Sirius didn't have clear memories of the night he'd discovered James and Lily dead, and Harry gone. All he had was flashes and a deep, lingering sense of failure. Sometimes he forgot about it, and managed to live in the moment; Hermione was helping with that. Other times it was all he could do, going over his deficiencies trying to figure out how not to be… him.

Harry came back to work two weeks after the incident, looking a bit pale still, but in good spirits. Sirius tried not to fuss over his godson like a mother-hen, especially at the DMLE, but each time he saw Harry's face, so like James and with those unmistakably Lily eyes, he wanted to hold on and never let go. This was only tempered by the fact that they were still at odds about how to handle the Hermione and Greyback situation.

"Look, I know we're doing a lot, it's not a case of the DMLE not doing our job, this is about Hermione. Our friend. My girlfriend," said Sirius to Harry, the two of them talking earnestly in a corner of the Burrow's living room, the bustle of Sunday activities around them. "I feel like I've got my hands tied behind my back, but I also feel like if we don't tell her, it's worse than if we do."

"Trust me," said Harry, exasperated. "Will she be pissed when she finds out? Yeah, I would put galleons on it. But it'll also be over. She won't have to think about it after she's had her rant." Sirius huffed with frustration.

"No, I get that Harry, I do," he said. "But look what's happening. Things are not getting any less dangerous. Look at what happened with you–"

"That was an ambush," said Harry firmly.

"Harry, if I'd lost you… if I lost Hermione because I didn't–"

"You boys alright here in the corner or do I have to start looking for mischief?" Hermione raised an eyebrow at them. She was holding one mug of steaming hot chocolate, with another two floating ahead of her with wandless magic.

"Impressive," said Harry, grabbing one of the cups out of the air, while Sirius took the other.

"Thanks love," said Sirius, almost leaning in to kiss Hermione on the hair before he noticed her widening eyes and remembered where they were.

"Just Auror stuff," said Harry, smiling at his best friend, and Hermione narrowed her eyes slightly.

"Hmmyes, alright. But don't let Mrs. Weasley hear you." She turned at the call of her name. "Coming!" she said loudly. "See you boys later," she said, and disappeared back into the the sea of Weasleys.

"You might as well be advertising," said Harry with amusement, and Sirius turned to him.

"Sorry?"

"Pretty sure staring at Hermione's bum is a giveaway. When are you two telling everyone else?"

Sirius rubbed a finger against the smoothness of the porcelain mug. The truth was, he didn't know. To start with, it had been about giving themselves a chance to see what this thing between them was without the pressure of everyone else. But Sirius was also nervous about how the other older adults would react, as well as the wizarding world at large. He didn't know which was worse, his age or reputation.

"I don't know," he confessed to Harry. "I really don't. It's so difficult, once this gets out…"

"I understand," said Harry sympathetically. "Things will change. But Sirius it's never going to be a good time when it comes to other people. They'll have their opinions no matter what you do. Just remember the people who matter, care for and support you and Hermione." Sirius nodded.

"Oh 'Arry, it eez so good to be seeing you, looking so well!" Fleur appeared, leaning in to kiss her brother-in-law, and then, to his own surprise, Sirius as well. "I am so sorree to be disturbing your conversation," she said to Sirius, "but can I be stealing zis one for a few minutes? Bill and I iz having something to talk about wiz him, and it looks like if we don't now, we won't get a chance to." She nodded in the direction of Louie, fast asleep on his father's shoulder, his sister tugging tiredly at Bill's shirt.

"Of course," said Sirius, shuddering as he watched Harry being dragged into what he liked to call 'the circle of sticky fingers'. He leaned against the side of the fireplace, watching the little groups and conversation happening all around. Hermione was speaking animatedly with Molly but she caught his eye over the older witch's shoulder and smiled.

He was really lucky, thought Sirius. He hoped he wouldn't fuck it up.

Sirius wasn't an Auror for nothing; if there's one thing he could do without fail, it was to keep secrets. Keeping this information from Hermione was difficult, but he had thought about it and come to agree with Harry. Let them sort it out, keep her out of it. He would be protecting her from unnecessary pains. But he couldn't just sit by and watch.

Instead, he put extra effort into the time they were spending together on his grandfather's spell book. They had moved on to some of the more offensive curses, having wizened up to using the basement for practice. Hermione never questioned the zeal with which he took her to this task. His little swot was predictably enthralled by the book and the experiments they did together, especially since she could not pick up the book or even flip a page without him.

She mentioned, briefly, that she was surprised they had so much time to spend together recently, but it was a comment in passing and she didn't mention it again. He'd begun to have a sense of guilt when they were together, finding it difficult to separate that part of him that was entirely hers, and the part that was an Auror, and desperate to make up for the mistakes of the past.

As August rolled over into September, the days ticking by, Sirius felt he could relax a little more. He tucked away his Auror duty to Hermione in the background of their lives, a 'constant vigilance' that he did without thinking anyway. Her birthday was approaching and he was wracking his brain for a gift that special but discreet, something he could give to her that wouldn't scream 'lovers' to everyone they hadn't yet told about their relationship.

In the end he bought her a new pair of running shoes, giving it to her along with the others at the birthday lunch they were having at the Burrow. She opened the gift from him carefully, hesitant in front of everyone, and then she'd seen the shoes. They were a pair she'd admired in a shop front window but could not bring herself to spend how much they cost. "Oh thank you Sirius", she exclaimed, genuinely grateful.

"Well your old ones were rather stinky you know-" She gasped, "Bloody charming, and smacked him in the head with a couch cushion and everyone tittered. It was a little cunning, he thought, but it was the kind of thing they would all expect from them, and it did the deal, smoothly passing onto the opening of the next gift, a lovely leather notebook and quill from the Potters.

Much, much later, when they were home and tucked up in his bed, he slid out and brought her the shoebox. "What are you doing?" she asked, but he just grinned, passing her the shoes. "I don't think you've had a good enough look", he said, and she gave him a look of suspicion, taking the shoes from him.

She turned each one around, looking and poking, starting to feel really stupid when she felt something underneath the inner sole of the right shoe. She carefully peeled back the foam padding and something fell out onto the bed.

It was a thin gold anklet, so thin and with many thousands of tiny links that it glimmered in the light and ran like silk between her fingers. Hermione was not a jewellery aficionado in the least, but even she recognised Goblin-made jewellery. The gold was so strong with fine workmanship and magic, it would never, ever snap. It must have cost an absolute fortune. She looked up at him, disbelieving. "Sirius this is beautiful but it's far too much, the shoes alone-" she said.

She saw the nervousness in his eyes, the anticipation of rejection, and she realised that he had probably never given a woman jewellery before, or at least anything of particular value. She swallowed her questions about its significance, instead handing the anklet to him. "Will you put it on for me?" she asked, and his smile could have cracked his face, it was so wide. He moved down the bed and pulled one of her feet into his lap. He fiddled with the tiny clasp, but got it on, kissing the top of her foot on impulse. She giggled, and he crawled back up next to her. They lay on their backs, side by side and she raised her leg, admiring the glint and subtle shimmer around her ankle. "Thank you", she said, and kissed him, and then didn't stop for a while.

All in all, life had been going a little too smoothly since Harry's brush with death, thought Hermione later that night, lying awake in bed with Sirius face tucked in the crook of her neck his breath puffing onto her skin in contented little snores he would vehemently deny the next day. Sirius had actually been sleeping, and so had she, and there hadn't been any attacks on Order members. Harry had fully recovered, and her research was going well. She wanted to have a positive outlook, she really did, but she was cynical.

"I just have this bad feeling," she told Harry at lunch, later that month.

"Hermione, if there's anything all the crap we've been through – yes, you too – has taught me, its to enjoy the good things in your life when you can. Speaking of which, here comes one of yours."

Hermione turned to see a terribly handsome wizard walking their way. "Hey," Sirius said when he reached the table. "You cheating on me with this specky fellow?" he teased and Hermione wrinkled her nose playfully. She could smell his fragrance from where she was sitting and she had the sudden urge to wrap herself up in it like a cuddly blanket. Metaphorically of course.

"Oi, she's like a sister to me," said Harry. "And what's more, I'm your boss."

"Not on lunch you aren't," grinned Sirius, but thought twice about ruffling Harry's hair in public anyway. He turned to Hermione. "Hey, so I can't make tonight's Order meeting, not sure if Harry mentioned but I'm on call."

Hermione tried to school the worry on her face, but it was a futile attempt to hide her feelings from two of the closest people in her life.

"It's alright, nothing out of the ordinary," said Sirius. "Just patrolling, really." Hermione arched an eyebrow, as though to say, And?

"I'll be okay," pressed Sirius. "I just wanted to let you know that I'll see you later tonight when I get home, so you wouldn't be worried in case my dear godson failed to mention my commitments to you." Harry pulled a piggish face.

"See you soon my love," Sirius said, his eyes warm and soft, looking for all the world like he wanted to touch her, but of course, could not.

"My love," teased Harry as they watched Sirius walk away.

"Oh hush," said Hermione. "I'm enjoying the view," she said, and it was Harry's turn to gag. Besides, It was stupid to get excited over an endearment Sirius used even with strangers, and she said as much.

"No dear, he calls them love, not my love," said Harry smugly.

Somewhere, deep inside Hermione's brain, a few synapses exploded.

Oh. He was right, Sirius did call her that. There she's been, swooning at every 'babe' and 'sweetheart' when he'd been calling her his love. When had it changed?

"You've got that pre-NEWTs expression," chuckled Harry. "Don't think so hard about it, is it really that unlikely to hear that he has feelings for you?"

It wasn't that though. It was the implication of the depth of those feelings, for that word to be used in its intended form by that particular wizard. Did he know he was doing it? Was he ready for that? Was she, for that matter? Oh gods, what if they were moving too fast? They'd only been together for such a short time.

"Stop overthinking," said Harry with a roll of his eyes, bringing her back to the situation by a well-aimed pea to the forehead. It bounced off her and rolled somewhere under the table. Her mouth dropped open in shock.

"Harry James Potter! You are a grown man, you did not just throw food at me!" she said, laughing.

"What can I say, Albus is teaching me bad habits," said Harry, with an exaggerated expression of innocence.

"Blaming a baby," tsked Hermione, looking at him sideways.

"I love you Hermione," Harry said, and Hermione struggled to remember the boy so starved of affection that any expression of love had, for so long, left him scarlet.

"I love you too Harry," she said, wiping at her eyes. Harry passes a spare serviette over to her. "Sorry," she said, honking into the tissue.

"It's alright. I specialise in crying women these days."

"How is Ginny?"

"She's… Ginny. A lot more happening on the inside than the outside, you know? That's what I mean when I talk about taking advantage of good times. While everything is quiet, we're going away this weekend, just me and her. And if something comes up, or something happens before that, then hey," he shrugged, "we can change the plans. But I can't afford to let the possibility of danger stop us from living."

Hermione regarded him admiringly. "You've turned into a very wise man, Harry Potter."

"I know," he said cheekily.

"So where are you taking Gin?"

"Nothing demanding – she's already complaining about her ankles so I've rented a beach house. It's more the being together. The baby's due in November. She's been really frightened since I got attacked," he said. "She holds a lot on her shoulders."

"That she does."

"Anyway. I think it'll do all of us good." He smiled. "Hey, you seen Rosie recently?"

Hermione smiled at the thought of her god-daughter. "Yes, I spent a bit of time with her this weekend, just at Ron's place. She wanted to show me her finger painting set." Hermione grimaced, making Harry laugh. "Well, you can imagine the mess. But she's really cute. And she loves reading, so that was fun."

"You ever think about it?"

"Hmm?"

"Kids. You're such a natural with Rose and our boys."

"Oh! You think so? Um, now and again. I didn't really think it was going to happen for me, but maybe… well it's not really a decision I can make on my own, is it?"

"I think Sirius would be open to the idea."

Hermione blushed at that. "I'm not sure we're there yet. We haven't really talked about it."

"Well," said Harry, as the lunch bell went off, "I just think you'd be a great mum to someone." He hugged Hermione.

"Thank you Harry. See you and Gin soon? Maybe a week or two?"

"Yeah, would be nice to do something just the fours of us. We haven't in a while."

The Order meeting was boring as all hell and Hermione was glad. Boring meant nothing much was happening, and although she wanted any criminals caught and brought to justice, she also quite fancied the idea of having a boring, safe life, at least for a bit. They were certainly due it.

She noticed Mari and Severus in an intimate conversation, and Mari gave Severus a heated look. The wizards lips tipped up in a meaningful, dry smile, his own eyes becoming piercing.

"Ugh, I think I'm going to be sick," said George.

"Stop looking then," said Hermione with a laugh. "I think it's lovely."

"There's not enough Firewhiskey in the world that could make that acceptable," countered George. The two lovebirds had proceeded from canoodling into what appeared to be full on PDA.

"What if we went off and did that?" piped up Luna, and a slow, plotting smile grew on George's face. Hermione shook her head, amused, and bid everyone goodnight.

It was difficult to sleep even after a warm bath and a cup of tea, so she took with her to read. The next thing, the book was being taken out of her hand and she opened her eyes to see Sirius looking warmly down at her.

"Sorry, you fell asleep with it on you and that didn't look very comfortable."

It was true what they said about getting older, Hermione thought. Good looks and stimulating banter were nice and all, but the comfort of domesticity and a nice man – whether he believed it or not – was so much more attractive now. She stretched like a cat, watching him rake his eyes over her.

"You tired?" he asked.

"Not actually," she said. "That little nap did me good. How about you? You've been working."

"No, not tired," he said, climbing onto the bed. "Not tired one bit."

Clothes were shed, and soon they were moving together skin on skin. Sirius kissed his way down her body, and she moaned with delight until he reached just under her navel. He felt her tense up, and climbed back up over her. "When will you let me do that?" he asked her, kissing her neck.

"I… just surprise me," she said, and he looked up with arched eyebrows.

"Surprise me," she repeated.

"Ok… and that will make it better because…?" He nibbled on her ear and she shuddered.

"Lost in the moment and all that. I think. Sorry," Hermione said, moaning at the feel of his thumb rubbing her between her legs.

"There's nothing to be sorry about," Sirius said, as he leaned over her and pushed into her slowly, watching her lips fall open at the sensation. "Just know that when I do 'surprise' you, you're going to remember it for all the right reasons."

"I'll believe that when I see it," she said cheekily, and then all conversation ended in favour of different pleasant sounds.

Sneak Peek Chapter Nineteen.

"Your birthday is coming up", she said, touching a spoon against her lips. He was making oats for breakfast since she had somehow managed to burn the toast again.

He grunted.