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 those of you who have reviewed, I appreciate the feedback more than you know. Although the plot is pretty much cemented, hearing your perspectives as readers is really helpful with the rest. It's also really encouraging knowing you're keen for more to help me get through the difficult bits.

Back to the story - up until now, Hermione and Sirius' relationship has been fairly stable, even if the world around them hasn't. Despite both of them having good reasons to fear the unsettle in their world, this is something that they both, to some extent, are familiar with. The fact is that for both of them, the relationship they have embarked on is in many ways the unknown.

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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 Twenty: Revelations and relation

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"Blimey, what'd you two do to Hermione to get her spitting mad?" asked George. Harry shot him a warning look. The room was silent and Mrs. Weasley was looking at Harry disapprovingly.

"Auror matters."

Sirius, meanwhile, was stock still, his eyes still trained on the spot where Hermione had been standing seconds before.

"I'll go–" said Harry, but Sirius shoved past his godson, unable to look at him, even, and went straight through the Floo. With a stomach-turning 'whoosh' he was standing in the living room at Grimmauld. Hermione was staring at him, a few feet from the fireplace. She glared in disbelief, and stalked towards the kitchen.

"Wait. Babe please."

She was almost out the backdoor. There was nowhere to go from the back yard, so Sirius moved faster to stop her. Shoulders stiff, she turned to him. It physically hurt him to see the mistrust in her eyes. He had to make her understand.

"Love, you have to understand, we were only trying to keep you safe, save you the worry–"

"Save me the worry?" she said incredulously. Sirius winced. "You really are full of bullshit Sirius–"

"Hey now–" He reached out for her and she flinched, moving back.

"You wanted me to live under your protection, like a- like a child!"

"That's not true! I'm trying to be a good partner–"

She cut him off with a derisive laugh, an ugly, pained sound and he gestured helplessly. "Hermione please, believe me."

She snorted. "You know, this is something I could expect of Harry." She smiled tightly, her eyes staring through the tiled floor. "He's almost as mental when it comes to unnecessary guilt. But you! Y-you!"

She swiped angrily at her eyes. "You knew how I felt. You knew that I wanted- I needed to face up to him. I'm tired of being afraid and you knew how much I–" Her voice cracked and she wobbled backwards, holding out her palm to stop Sirius from getting any closer.

Sirius growled in frustration, tugging at his own hair to stop himself from reaching out for her. "That's what we were trying to do! Merlin Hermione, you can't even say his name!"

"This is not about me, this is about you and your damned guilt," she screamed. "You let me think I could trust you-"

"Hermione…" said Sirius weakly.

"What is it this time? You're the reason my parents are dead? The reason my friends are dead? Just how big is your bloody ego, Sirius? How much do you think you control, that you have to make up for?"

He stared at her, speechless as her words bit into him.

"You're ridiculous, you know that?" she said, her eyes glittering and hard. "You get another chance at life and what do you do? You waste it brooding about the years you didn't get, the things you didn't do!"

The fuck? "You're a naive little girl if you think missing twenty years of your life is nothing!" yelled Sirius, hurt. There was a stand-offish silence.

"I didn't say that," said Hermione eventually, her voice low and measured. "It's horrible and unfair and if there were any way for you to get that back I'd do anything to help, but there isn't, and I can't! When are you going to stop trying to fix the past and start building a future? Why do you insist on looking back when there's so much to look forward to-"

"Why do you insist on pretending like the past didn't happen," demanded Sirius. "Like it hasn't fucked you up too? Tell me, love, what exactly is it you think I have to look forward to?!"

"Argh!" yelled Hermione in frustration, pushing past him to leave the room. The thick, pig-headed, self-obsessed-

He reached out and grabbed her by the upper arm, forcing her back towards him and making her yelp. His fingers were tight around her arm and he was being rough. "Let me go! And don't call me a little girl!"

"No! You tell me what I have to look forward to!" he shouted, furious.

"Like me! I love you!" she yelled.

"IF YOU DIE, I DON'T HAVE A FUTURE!"

Silence suffocated the pair of them in the small space as each registered the shock and intensity of the other's confession. Hermione's eyes softened and to Sirius, everything ceased to exist apart from the woman in front of him, her eyes on his, dark and passionate, her face flushed and her love… she'd said she loved him.

They would never be sure who moved first, but all at once they were on each other, Sirius pulling her tightly to him and pressing his mouth hard against hers, demanding and desperate. Hermione whimpered but pushed herself against him as he rubbed his lips across her skin messily. She gasped at the onslaught of attention his teeth paid the soft yielding flesh of her neck, and raked her short nails across his shoulders in retaliation, making him hiss.

He lifted her off her feet, depositing her on the kitchen counter behind her and pushed his way between her legs so they were pressed together hard and intimately. "Tell me," he rasped, his fingers gripping the soft flesh of her sides, restrainedly begging for permission.

"Yes," she gasped. She crushed her mouth to his, reaching down and deftly unbuckling his belt. They pushed and fumbled, whimpering sounds that could have come from either of them, or both - it didn't matter. Sirius reached under her skirt and fairly ripped away her knickers. The scrap of fabric went flying behind him, landing in the sink with the dirty dishes. He pulled her roughly to him, one arm cinched around her waist while the other hand tangled possessively in the curls at the base of her neck. There were only a few intense moments, gazing into her eyes, and then it took a single thrust and he was inside her. Both of them cried out at the feeling. He pushed his forehead against hers, breathing harshly so all that he could smell was her sweet breath, and began to move in long, hard strokes. Hermione mewled helplessly, jolted against the kitchen bench. Her hand shot out for balance and a half-filled coffee cup went flying. The crash barely registered.

"Sirius," she whimpered, and he panted, his eyes burning. When her pupils dilated until almost all the whiskey was gone, he felt her convulse and shudder around him, chanting his name. He pressed his face into her neck.

"I love you," he said thickly, and shuddered, coming with shaking legs.

When the lights stopped flashing behind his eyes he pressed his forehead to her shoulder. Both of them were breathing hard. "I'm so sorry. Gods I'm so sorry. You deserve someone younger, less messed up, you're right-"

"No, don't. I want you," she said plaintively. "I only want you." Sirius shivered at her words, tempering the desire to believe her and fall apart in her arms, with the fact of his betrayal.

"I should have told you," he whispered. "I didn't want to hurt you, I just wanted to take care of you because I- because I love you."

"I love you," she said immediately. "You can't protect me from life, Sirius." She stroked his hair.

He lifted his head to look into her whiskey eyes, cradling her face between his palms. "I know," he confessed, his throat tight. "I know, I–"

A quick movement in the doorway drew their attention and they both turned to see a large silvery wolf floating there. The wolf Patronus opened it's mouth. "The baby is coming. We've gone to St. Mungos," came Remus' familiar voice, and then the wolf faded into wisps of smoke that dissipated into nothingness.

It took them a few minutes to pull themselves together. Sirius shot longing glances in Hermione's direction as they neatened themselves, feeling the words he wanted to say and didn't know, stick in his throat.

"This doesn't–," said Hermione suddenly. She ran her fingers through her hair in an attempt to neaten it. "It's not–"

Sirius nodded mutely, buckling his trousers. Sirius let her through the Floo first, taking a deep breath before he followed.

St. Mungos bright white walls and lights were a shock after the sunlit kitchen. Hermione strode ahead, walking with purpose. Considering the sheer number of children born amongst the lot of them, the Birthing Ward of the wizarding hospital was familiar territory and it wasn't difficult to find their party crowding up the waiting room.

She was grateful for the ability to get lost in a crowd like theirs; the two of them slipped into the back next to George and Luna, and the Lupins.

"Oh you haven't killed one another," said George with a glance in their direction. "Marvellous. The Healer says it won't be long since it's Gin's third. You'll probably be seeing your god-daughter soon." As if on cue, there was a piercing scream from behind the doors leading to the birthing suites and most of them winced. Mrs. Weasley, on the other hand, looked delirious with excitement. "You know," said George thoughtfully, "It's moments like these that I really want to punch Harry in the face."

Hermione glanced up at Sirius and was surprised to see that his face had gone pale. She watched as Remus transfigured his handkerchief into a cup and filled it with cold water, handing it to Sirius.

"He was like this when Lily was having Harry," said their tall friend. Sirius turned impossibly paler at the sound of the next scream, and George, who had been listening from the other side, raised his eyebrows.

"Oh you have got to be joking," he said gleefully. "Mister Prison Tattoos Auror McMotorbikes here is squeamish about childbirth?"

Finally the doors to the wards opened and Harry came out, his hairline damp with sweat and massaging the fingers of one hand with the other. He grinned broadly. "She's here!" Cheering and clapping along with calls of congratulations filled the room. Albus clapped along with everyone, whilst James fell to his knees and began wailing in distress.

Mr. and Mrs. Weasley and Harry's boys were the first to be allowed into the suite. The only others who would go in for that day were the godparents.

"Is everything okay?" Hermione looked up. Remus was shooting concerned looks between her and Sirius, who was staring at the doors, fidgeting.

"I… I don't know," said Hermione, tears threatening to fall. The comforting hand Remus placed on her shoulder helped her compose herself. Still, she noticed the questioning looks they got as the others left.

Eventually it was their turn and when they entered the room, Ginny was sitting up in the bed, her face almost as red as her bedraggled hair, but glowing with euphoria as she cradled a small pink bundle in her arms. Harry was perched on the side of the bed, staring down between his wife and new daughter with awe.

"We named her Lily," said Hermione's best friend, and took the baby from his wife, holding her out to his own godfather. Hermione heard the soft intake of breath beside her when Sirius took the sleeping newborn into his arms.

"She's so tiny," he said, staring in wonder. "Am I holding her properly? Been a while since I held a newborn." He all but whispered the last, and Hermione knew he was thinking about many, many years ago when he'd once held Harry in his arms for the first time. His eyes sparkled unrestrainedly with unshed tears and a flood of love pooled in Hermione's chest along with the pain that seemed to have taken residence there.

She sensed Harry come up beside her.

"Hermione… I'm so sorry. Is everything okay?" he whispered.

She debated how to answer, the anger having worked its way out of her system to leave the aching ball of fear behind. She could not even sum up the energy to be mad at Harry. "I don't know," she said quietly, for the second time that evening.

"Hermione, I'm really so–"

She turned to green eyes. "It's not important right now," she murmured.

"I'm hoarding," said Sirius with a small, shaky laugh and carefully handed the baby over into Hermione's practised arms. The infant was gorgeous, with the usual grey-blue eyes of a newborn, and a decent amount of dark red hair. She felt Sirius' hand on her back, the other cradling the baby under her own and a moment of peace settled over her.

"Everything will be okay," she murmured uncertainly, to whom she couldn't be sure. "Hello little one," she whispered, the warm, solid weight of the softly breathing infant in her arms acting as a calming presence beside the weight of fear and love in her heart.

The Floo home was quiet and by the time they got home it was dark. Both of them were too exhausted to do anything besides crawl into bed, and even though it was technically his bedroom, Sirius hesitated as Hermione slipped between the covers on what had since become her side of the bed. "Don't be silly," she said tiredly, lifting the blanket on his side in invitation. With marginal relief, Sirius got into the bed and pure exhaustion had the both of them asleep within minutes.

Hermione woke in the middle of the night to the bed shaking slightly. Sirius was perched on his side of the bed, his shoulders sloped as he sobbed in that eerie, silent way of his.

"Babe what's wrong?" she whispered, her voice raspy with sleep.

There was a quick sniff. "Nothing, love, go back to sleep."

Hermione sighed, sitting up to lean her chin on his shoulder. He turned to her slightly and his eyes were dark and shiny. "Just a dream," he said. "Baby reminds me of Lily."

He had had a dream about his old friends that was so similar to memory it had been overwhelmingly vivid. He was in the hospital, holding Harry in his arms for the first time. Remus and Peter were there, blurs in the background, but James and Lily were clear as day, and the three of them were giddy with happiness. Then he'd woken up disoriented and when he came back to himself the pain of loss had washed over his anew.

It was more than Sirius had ever said on the subject before, and Hermione listened quietly, rubbing his arm until he fell silent. There was something about whispering in the dark, perhaps even how emotionally exhausted he was that seemed to allow Sirius to speak more openly that usual, and as Hermione learned this she felt only a little guilty taking advantage of his vulnerability. She needed to know.

"Why do you cry so quietly?"

It was a moment before he answered, and the answers made Hermione wish she hadn't asked as much as she was glad she had.

"When I was young," he said haltingly, "my parents… well let's just say they were nothing like yours. They were… free with their hands and their wands. He touched his fingers to a scar on his neck that Hermione had always assumed came from his time during the war, or on the run after Azkaban. "I learned early on that the best way to avoid… more… was to keep my tears to myself. I guess it started then. And then–" He swallowed, but forced the words out. "In Azkaban, the last thing you want is for them to hear you cry. It makes things- the Dementors, they-" He rubbed wearily at his eyes. "It's worse."

He fell silent once more, yawning widely while Hermione fought the tears that threatened to fall hearing Sirius' experiences. Her understanding of the man beside her grew, and with it, her guilt at their fight the day before. As he settled back into bed and she wrapped her small form around his back, spooning him, her mind worked overtime to see a future for the two of them.

What Sirius had done was wrong, but she could understand from where it came. But was that enough? Would it ever be enough to understand? Could Sirius ever let go of the past, and what could Hermione do to help him overcome the fears that drove him? Or would she have to accept that this was it?

Their hideout was small and cramped to begin with, so the added tension that was radiating towards Harry from his godfather didn't help. There wasn't much he could say, though. Sirius, to his credit had reigned in his usual dramatics, although he was still short with Harry and Harry understood why. Although two weeks had passed since their blowout, while Hermione had given Harry the tongue-lashing he'd expected – and dreaded - she had also forgiven him, but things between his best friend and his godfather still seemed to be in a very odd place, and he wanted to help fix it. Sirius, although saying more to Harry than he had in a fortnight, was reticent.

"Do you really think this is the time to be talking about this?" he asked tightly.

"You're really telling me your head is in the game right now?" asked Harry.

Sirius snorted. "I'm telling you that it's odd for your boss to be distracting you while you're on the job."

Well. He might have a point there, Harry conceded, but he couldn't leave things there.

"Look, you're angry with me, and rightly so-"

Sirius laughed humourlessly. "No son, I'm not angry with you. Yes, I was. But who I'm really pissed at is myself. I should have told Hermione."

"I forbade you to, as your boss," justified Harry.

"It wasn't an Unbreakable Vow, Harry. I could have. I should have. Told her I mean."

"Maybe so but I've explained to Hermione, told her it's my fault-"

"It's not like that, Harry. Think about it. If it'd been Ginny. Actually - remember you told me how mad she was when she found out that the three of you had left on your 'camping trip' without her?"

"I was just trying to protect her," said Harry, understanding. "But even afterwards she was angry for the longest time." His eyebrows arched in memory. "It took months before she gave me the time of day again."

"Yes. Well. I can't wait that long," said Sirius, his foot jiggling anxiously. A small group of youth dressed in tattered jeans and band t-shirts walked by and his eyes darted after them before he relaxed slightly.

"I knew we shouldn't take tip-offs from Mr. Roland," said Harry, massaging a calf muscle that had gone tight from standing in the same awkward position for too long. "Wizard's batty as it is. Do you know he-"

"I love her Harry. And I told her."

Harry blinked. He hadn't been expecting that, even though he'd suspected for a long while, probably longer than Sirius had, even, that his godfather was in love with Hermione.

"Sirius, that's… good, right? I mean, she did say…"

"Yeah." Harry could see the flush on his godfather's face even in the dim light. "But that doesn't mean anything if she-"

"It does," said Harry firmly, then once more when Sirius looked at him sceptically. "It does. Now's not the time to skip out, Sirius. If you- if you're serious about it, then now's not the time to turn and run. Give her time."

"He loves you."

"He lied to me."

"But he loves you. People make stupid mistakes with the best intentions, Hermione. Not all of them are nefarious. A little selfish, perhaps, but not intentionally hurtful."

Of all the places Hermione might've thought to find herself in a Wednesday evening, it would not have included Severus Snape's admittedly tasteful cottage home, curled up on his couch opposite Mari, who, after two weeks was still trying to convince her to put aside her doubts and fears about her relationship with Sirius, and move on.

"Books, a wizard is never more stupid than when he loves a witch." Mari glanced over her shoulder towards the kitchen, where someone was whistling merrily along with the crash of dishes. Hermione thanked her stars that she couldn't actually see Severus Snape being sappy. A smile on his face might be a little too much to handle at this point.

As if performing Legilimency, the wizard in question came into the room, a startlingly smug, secretive smile on his face as he leaned over his girlfriend's shoulder to kiss her as though Hermione didn't even exist. Mari reached a hand up to cup her wizard's face, and that was the moment when Hermione noticed the sparkling engagement ring on her friend's finger.

A/N: This was a really difficult chapter to write.