Sirius felt the Weasley's, Harry, and Hermione enter the wards, returning from visiting Arthur in St. Mungos. He popped out of the kitchen to the foyer to greet them as they all came shuffling through the front door, kicking off sludge from their boots as they did so. The crowd looked to be in much better spirits than before. The panicked edge that they had the first night they arrived was gone and Molly seemed mostly back to her usual assured self.
Even Harry seemed in a better mood after Hermione went up to speak to him after he had holed himself up in his room for a couple of days. Although there was still a bit of an angsty air around the boy he wasn't isolating himself or abstaining from conversing with others.
Encouraged by the positive vim, Sirius smiled and ushered them through the foyer and towards the kitchen.
"Good news, I take it?" He said as he moved to the stove where he had made a pot of hot chocolate in anticipation for their return.
"They said Arthur should be able to be discharged in time for Christmas," she said with a relaxed smile as she took the mug Sirius held out for her. He grinned back at her at the news. It was only a couple of days before Christmas and she was already missing Percy, who had ostracized himself from the rest of the Weasley clan, which made her even more anxious to have Arthur home for the holiday.
"That's wonderful, Molly," he said, reaching around and giving her a quick side hug, and rubbing her shoulder encouragingly. After the first night they had come to stay, their relationship had warmed considerably. Molly still had a slight disapproving frown whenever she saw him with a glass of firewhiskey but she didn't say anything. For all her strength, she had needed comfort and emotional support and somehow part of that had fallen to Sirius to provide. It was a bazaar contrast when she treated him like a vagrant before. Now she acted like he was one of her older sons; old enough to lean on for support, but young enough to nag.
She smiled up at him and nudged him aside. "Thank you for the cocoa, Sirius dear. But I need to make lunch now," she said firmly.
Sirius just raised his hands, surrendering the kitchen to her and walked over to the table to sit with the rest of the crowd. He sat in a free seat conveniently placed between Harry and Hermione against the back wall, his arm coming up automatically to rest on the back of her chair. Molly served up the rest of the sweet beverage by floating the mugs over to the table.
"Maybe there used to be a whole population down there and the merpeople killed all of them," said Charlie, he sat across from them with his arms crossed over his chest.
"That doesn't make sense," cut in Harry as he snagged a cup from the air. "The merpeople have lots of carvings of it all over the place in their village. They seemed to fear it. I can't imagine that if there were loads of them and they killed all of them they would be scared of the only one that survived."
"I heard Professor Sinistra tell someone that it was actually Godric Gryffindor's animagus form and that he transforms every night for a couple of hours and wanders the castle before returning to the lake," said Fred, excitedly. Both him and George were leaning on their elbows on the table.
"Pretty sure it was just a joke, but what if it's not?" added George eagerly.
"What? That's just stupid!" jumped in Ginny, rolling her eyes at the twins.
Sirius leaned towards Hermione and half whispered; "What are we talking about?"
She had been smiling amusedly as she watched the conversation unfold. She turned slightly towards him and held up her hand to hide her mouth from the table as she whispered back; "They're trying to figure out where the Giant Squid came from." She shook her head like she thought the whole thing was silly.
Sirius just broke out into laughter. The conversation stopped and they all just stared at him with bemused looks on their faces, which had him doubled up. He had to use Harry and Hermione's shoulders to keep him steady.
"Oi! What did I miss?" came Ron's voice from the doorway; explaining the empty seat between Harry and Hermione.
"We were just talking about where the Squid came from, and Sirius just decided to lose his mind," replied George, looking confused.
"It probably attached itself to the bottom of a Durmstrang ship ages ago when they came for a Triwizard Tournament, or something," shrugged Ron, taking a seat next to Charlie, across from Sirius. He looked at Sirius strangely as he started laughing harder.
"The squid is obviously magic. It probably can apparate or something," chimed Ginny.
Hermione started patting his back as his laughter turned hysterical. "You okay?" she asked, befuddled laughter in her voice.
He nodded and sat up straight, trying to gain control over himself. "It's just I didn't consider how wild the rumors would get," he said, wiping his eyes with his thumb and choking down another laugh.
After a pause as the implication of his wording settled on them. Then Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Fred, George, and Charlie all gasped in near unison.
"Wait," said Fred.
"You don't mean," continued George.
"You put the Squid in the lake?!" exclaimed Fred, George and Charlie at the same time.
"No way! Are you serious?" asked Harry, jaw gaping. Sirius just gave Harry a level stare, eyebrow quirked up and a smirk playing on his lips, as if to say 'really? Did you just ask me that?'
"Well, us and Hagrid," he started explaining to the group. His hand unconsciously reaching up to twirl a finger into one of Hermione's curls "He asked us for help when one of the stakes for a card game was a tiny squid during one of his excursions to the Hog's Head. Me and Prongs ended up stacking the odds at the table by joining in on the bet. It wasn't totally fair as we both knew how to count cards- but don't tell Hagrid that, he'd be upset if he found out. She was really tiny at first, I remember that Hagrid kept her in one of his tea cups, but as with everything he takes in as a pet she didn't stay small. He ended up coming to us in a panic because it got too big for his bathtub and needed help smuggling her into the lake."
Fred and George just stared at Sirius with their mouths hanging open. Their unrepressed awe rendered them mute, reminding Sirius of when he was first introduced to the twins. Remus had to explain later how they found the Marauder's Map and grew to idolize Moony, Padfoot and Prongs.
"Her?" asked Hermione, her eyebrows approaching her hairline.
Sirius grinned down at her. "Yes. Her. Her name is Jacquline."
"A squid named Jacquline?" said Ron, incredulously. He frowned like it was the most ridiculous idea he had ever heard. Sirius looked over at Ron in time to catch the subtle pull of his eyebrows as he glanced at between Hermione and him.
"About as ridiculous as a dragon named Norbert, Ron," said Charlie, who was going red in the face from grinning so hard.
"She's actually very sweet. We used to take turns bringing her shepherd's pie."
"You fed a squid shepherd's pies?" asked Hermione, baffled. She turned fully to look at him tucking one leg up under her knee.
"Well, Ginny isn't wrong, Jacqueline is a magic squid. How else did you think she survives in a freshwater lake? Also, they're her favorites," he pointed out. Hermione just hummed in agreement, her eyes drooping slightly at the gentle tugging sensation at the base of her neck as he coiled a curl up towards her scalp.
"That's so weird," said Charlie. "I'd never thought of the squid as being such a recent requisition. It feels like she should have been there forever. Like Nearly Headless Nick, or something." He took a pondering sip from his mug. "Well… maybe not 5 centuries, but at least longer than what? Twenty something years ago? I thought the squid was at least around when Mom and Dad were at school."
"There's a lot that wasn't at the school when I went," said Molly as she leaned in to place a plate of sandwiches on the table "A few things that you lot never got to see as well."
"Like what?" Asked Ginny, swiping a sandwich before her brothers could reach for them. Ron was right behind her and grabbed two, glaring at her in a way that siblings do when they feel a slight challenge, before putting all his attention on his food. The rest of the Weasley's and Harry followed suit, grabbing their lunch.
"There used to be a ghost of a cat, named Portcullis, that would wander around the library. He moved on sometime in my 4th year though," she answered
"Why would a cat stay behind as a ghost?" Ginny asked, looking a little upset.
Sirius noticed that Hermione looked concerned as well. He smirked fondly at the expression on her face. He snagged two sandwiches and handed one to her. She took it absentmindedly and the two cat lovers looked at Molly expectantly.
"I'm not sure, there were a few theories," she began to answer, taking a seat at the head of the table and reaching for one of the remaining sandwiches. "There was a rumor that he was Rowena Ravenclaw's familiar, and that he didn't realize she'd died. So, he haunted the library where Rowena spent most of her time. One day he was just gone. Everyone just assumed he finally moved on."
"Poor Portcullis," lamented Ginny, deflating in her seat a little.
"It's alright Gins," said Charlie, giving his sister a comforting pat on the back. "I'm sure he's happier now that he can be with his mistress again."
Fred and George were oddly quiet. Both were looking at each other like they were having a silent conversation before turning to their mother. "Was Portcullis a long haired, black cat?" asked George.
"No. He was a white and grey cat," she replied, looking at her sons oddly. "Have you seen a ghostly cat hanging around the library?"
"Yeah, we've caught a glimpse of a ghost cat hanging around the back of the library a few times. We've seen it around the infirmary, and occasionally wandering around the castle after curfew, too," said Fred tapping his chin with the corner of his sandwich looking contemplative. "Obviously not the same ghost cat, though."
"And just what were you doing out of the Gryffindor tower after curfew, boys?" asked Molly, a fierce spark igniting in her eyes.
Ignoring the backpedalling of the twins and the indignant lecturing of Molly, Charlie said; "That's very unusual. Not just one, but two ghost cats deciding to haunt the castle." He leaned his elbow onto the table's surface and bit into his lunch.
"What makes that unusual?" asked Harry, curiously.
"Animals don't often become ghosts," explained Sirius. Harry looked up at him, confused, the familiar green eyes attentive on what his godfather was saying. "They don't have the same regrets or fears as humans do. A human might fear that they're going to be forgotten, or have unfinished work, or revenge that is tying them back. But animals don't think about legacy or have such deep grudges. If an animal does stick around after they pass, it's usually a loyal familiar."
"What, exactly, is a familiar? What makes it different from any other animal?" asked Hermione, interested. Crookshanks, as if sensing the topic of conversation, popped up onto her lap. He purred loudly and sat in the cradle her legs made, his paws tucked under him. Sirius reached over to scratch the cat under the chin.
"You don't know? I'm surprised you haven't yet researched the topic, Kitten," he said, amused at the slight indignant frown pulled at her face at his affectionate jab. "But to answer your question, Love, familiars are animals that have magically bonded with their chosen witch or wizard."
A look of interest piqued her face. She leaned forward slightly, her long hair slipping through his fingers so that he was fiddling with the ends. She scratched Crookshanks ears, the gentle rumbling filling the space between them. "How do you bond with an animal?"
Sirius hummed in thought as he watched her curious amber eyes. "There's no procedure. It's kind of like when a wand chooses you."
"Any animal can bond with a wizard?"
"No, it has to be a magically inclined animal. Postal owls like Hedwig have been selectively bred to be magically inclined, and Hedwig has most certainly bonded with Harry," he explained, turning his eyes to look at his godson.
"How can you tell that me and Hedwig have bonded?" asked Harry, leaning forward to get a good look at both Sirius and Hermione. The others at the table had split off into other conversations.
"Your ability to communicate with each other, for one. Familiars are helpers to their chosen, they prioritize their chosen's needs, or perceived needs, and are very in tune with your moods. They often act as guardians as well. Not every animal bonds with someone, and not every witch or wizard will find an animal that'll bond with them either."
Harry nodded, his eyes glazed over like he was thinking about something.
Sirius tugged Hermione's hair gently, directing her attention to him. She looked up at him expectantly. He smiled and reached down to pet Crookshanks and watched the rump of the rumbling mass of ginger fur float up into the air. "Cats are notoriously magically inclined, and a cat mixed with a magical creature like a kneazle makes for an exceptionally intelligent and powerful familiar. Which would make you think that they would be highly sought after but they tend to be extremely picky with who they bond, so it's quite rare. Most witches and wizards looking to bond with a familiar, usually find that they are more trouble than they are worth. "
Hermione looked down at her cat slightly dumbfounded, like she hadn't even considered that she might have been bonded with Crookshanks. He looked back up at her, his yellow eyes half lidded in comfort as he slowly shut one eye and continued to purr. "Oh!" A delighted grin found its way onto her face, it was so brilliant it was contagious.
It was quiet in the house. Not the haunted quiet that caused the plague of nightmarish memories that Sirius was used to in this house; but a contented quiet of a house that was full of people that were off doing their own things. Harry and Ron were chatting with Charlie and Bill - who was finally off work for the holidays. Fred and George were up in their room concocting new joke items, taking advantage of their mother's absence to do some of their more raucous experiments. Molly had left on an errand to gather more supplies for Christmas dinner, Ginny had tagged along intent on finishing up her shopping and had dragged Hermione along with her.
Sirius lay in his bed with a record playing at a low volume reading a book Hermione handed him when he complained that he had finished everything she had previously lent him. Crookshanks lay on his chest, eyes closed and his paws kneading into the faded Judas Priest t-shirt he had decided to wear that day.
She handed him a thin paperback book with a gothic image of a grotesque man on the front. Frankenstein by Mary Shelley. Sirius looked up at Hermione about to ask her about the book, but she beat him to it.
"It's about a scientist who tried to play God by creating life and then regretted his actions immediately after he achieved his goal and tried to avoid the consequences," she explained succinctly. She didn't look overly excited about this book which made him wonder about why she would suggest he read it.
"Not your favorite book, Kitten?" he asked.
"No, not really," she said with a small scowl directed at the cover of the book. Her hair was in a high ponytail that fluffed out around her neck and shoulders in an endearing way and exposed her ears.
"Well, why have me read it then?" he pressed her to clarify. He wasn't really interested if she thought ill of the book.
She quirked her lips to the side and scrunched her nose in an expression he was familiar with seeing when she was trying to put words to a thought. "I don't like it because it promises to be an interesting monster thriller, but instead turns out to be somewhat of an angsty diary. I'm giving it to you to read because even if I dislike it, it actually poses a few fairly interesting philosophical questions. Also Mary Shelley is credited as the Mother of Science Fiction, so it's kind of right of passage to read," she explained, looking up at him. "And who knows maybe you'll like it. I might have liked it if I had the right expectations."
"Hermione!" called Ginny's voice from near the fireplace. "It's time to go!"
"Coming!" Hermione answered over her shoulder. Turning back to look at him she smiled and reached around his waist to give him a quick hug. "I'll see you soon! Hopefully the book isn't too boring."
Sirius snorted a laugh as he watched her sprint down the hallway, her ponytail bouncing vivaciously behind her.
Sirius sighed, petting Crookshanks on his chest. Hermione had been right about the book. While he did find that the narrative was somewhat usurped by the constant monologue of Victor Frankenstein's malaise, he did find that he was enjoying the book. When he set the book down to contemplate what he was reading he realized that you weren't supposed to sympathize with Frankenstein, which is a departure from most other novels he had ever read. That led him to think that he was supposed to sympathize with the Monster as the cast aside creation of Frankenstein, but Sirius couldn't find it in him to do that either. It presented a dilemma- a cognitive dissonance. He found himself trying to find things to sympathize with for both the monster and the scientist. It was mildly frustrating but also oddly stimulating.
A knock interrupted his thoughts. "Sirius?" He heard the voice of his godson call out. "It's me. Can I come in?"
"Yeah. Come on in, Harry," Sirius invited, he dogeared the book and set it aside. He didn't make a move to get up when he caught the glare Crookshanks was pointing at him.
Harry opened the door and slipped in. He looked around the room before walking towards the bed and making himself comfortable by sitting with his back to the headboard.
"Something wrong, pup?" asked Sirius, looking up at Harry. Despite the general good mood he had been presenting since his talk with Hermione, Sirius knew that Harry was still facing internal struggles. The boy had suffered through a multitude of injustices and burdens over the last year that it was no wonder that this attack on Arthur Weasley had affected him so much. Though Sirius only knew the bare bones of what happened to alert him to the attack, he could guess enough by Harry's reaction in the aftermath. Sirius only wished that Harry would confide in him about it.
"Not really. Just got tired talking about dragon hoards," he said, unconvincingly. Sirius decided to leave it alone. If Harry wanted to talk about whatever was bothering him, he would come out and say it. "What are you listening to?" he asked after a moment of companionable silence.
"Boston," replied Sirius, taking a moment to pay attention to the song that was playing.
But there was something about you (I want you to know)
It brought a change over me (it's starting to show)
I've got this feeling inside
Got to have you, have you
Ain't no good to hide
"The song is Something About You. Good song. It came out when I was sixteen," he said, smiling at the memory. "We used to play this record a lot in the dorm. Sometimes we'd forget to silence the room and we'd end up hearing Lily screaming up the staircase that she was going to kill us." He laughed. Crookshanks opened a single eye to glare at him reproachfully as the chest he was using as a mattress rose up and down in a sudden staccato. They were silent, listening to the music coming from the corner of the room.
"Was my dad a good person?" Harry asked after a while. It was a shy question, like he was ashamed to ask.
Sirius frowned as he looked at his godson. "Of course he was. Why would you think otherwise?"
"Whenever people talk about my parents it's usually to say how wonderful my mom was. They don't usually have much to say about my dad, unless it's Snape."
A sneer broke onto Sirius' face at the mention of the potion's master. "Don't let what Snape says about your dad change how you think of him. The greasy git has no right to bad mouth James in front of you." He took a moment to take a few deep breaths before speaking again. "James was a stupid teenage boy at times. We all were. But he wasn't a bad person. In fact he was one of the best people you could ever know. "
"Then why do people always talk about my mom and not my dad?" Harry insisted.
"You're talking to the wrong people," answered Sirius. "To be honest, most of the people who really knew James have died. Your mother is easy to praise, she was a model student with a near perfect record. Even people who didn't know her well have an easy thing to say to an orphan boy who wants to know about his parents. But she wasn't perfect either." Sirius smiled ruefully at the canopy above them.
"Who should I talk to then?" Harry asked, laying the side of his head on his folded arms.
Sirius turned his head to look at the boy, taking in the perpetually tousled hair, the sharp chin, and thick eyebrows. Features that once upon a time belonged to his closest friend in the world. With a sigh, Sirius reached out his hand and ruffled the boy's hair.
"You talk to me, or Moony," he said matter of factly. "We knew them both the best. McGonagall would also have plenty of stories to tell you. You could also ask Madame Pomfrey as well. We spent a lot of time in the Hospital Wing."
"Really? McGonagall and Pomfrey?" asked Harry skeptically.
"Of course. We were McGonagall's best students in Transfiguration, we also were both on her house team. And she spent a lot of time with us in detention," Sirius explained thoughtfully, tucking his hand under his head and stroking Crookshanks down his spine with the other. "As for Madame Pomfrey, we were often in and out of there. Either quidditch accidents, injuries from full moon nights, pranks gone wrong, you name it. I'm pretty sure Poppy knew more of what we were up to than anyone else, but she doesn't ask questions and keeps things to herself unless she thinks you'd be putting others at risk."
"She always seems so…" Harry paused to think of the right word to describe the matron. "Fussy?" he decided, but looking unsure if that's the accurate word. "Every time I end up in there she seems annoyed with me for getting injured."
"Well of course she's annoyed!" Sirius laughed. "Her precious student got hurt. But, she really is a sweetheart. At one point in our sixth year we were in there so frequently she got fed up with it and took me on as her apprentice."
Harry's head perked up. "Wait, really? I didn't even know she could take apprentices," he said, shocked. "I also didn't know you were interested in healing."
"Yeah, it was surprising to all of us. One day she just shoved a textbook at me and told me to study a couple of chapters and to come back for her to quiz me," Sirius said with a shrug, his eyes back on the canopy. "I wanted to be an auror or something that put me into action. But, we all knew that war was brewing so I figured it wouldn't be a bad idea to go along with it."
Crookshanks rolled onto his side, resting his head under Sirius' chin.
"What was bringing you into the infirmary so frequently in your sixth year?" asked Harry, unfolding himself and finally relaxing into the conversation.
Sirius opened his mouth to answer, but closed it again. When pondering over the question he realized that he couldn't remember. It didn't feel like he had forgotten, the way so many things are when the years pass by. It felt like there was something important missing from his memories. A gap or hole that had been cut out of his mind that he hadn't noticed until that moment; until someone asked a question that broke through the hedge that hid the blank space.
"I don't remember," he said, his forehead creasing in thought as he searched his mind for the answer.
Harry didn't seem to notice his godfather's perplexed thoughts.
The monophonic sound from the record player after the last song finished, filled the room.
The next day when the group returned he was there to greet their return in much the same way as before. Molly was delighted to inform Sirius that Arthur would be discharged the following day, which just so happened to be Christmas Eve. She was a flurry as soon as she entered the house, she did a general dusting and clean of all the main rooms and started cooking up a storm to prepare for the holiday. The others were wary of her energy, and scattered as soon as they could to avoid being roped into some sort of cleaning duty. Sirius had caught the sight of Harry, Ron, and Hermione retreating quickly as well, but unlike the rest they seemed somewhat more subdued.
He frowned but had his attention grabbed by Molly who wanted to chat his ear off about how Arthur looked, and what the healers told her she was going to have to watch out for, and how to care for him as he finished healing from home. When he finally escaped he made his way to the Library to pour himself a firewhiskey and finish reading Frankenstein, assuming that he would have another opportunity to ask them what happened, or that they would resolve the issue themselves.
Most of the kids had decided to work on their Christmas wrapping and Sirius enjoyed the comings and goings of different Weasley children drifting into the Library where he had set the tree up. Throughout the day the modest pile of Christmas presents that Sirius had wrapped up and set under the tree while they were out, became a huge mountain of gifts the like he had never seen before.
The day went by, but he didn't find an opportunity to speak to Harry or Hermione privately. They had dinner and the conversation was lively, Harry and Ron seemed to have sufficiently recovered from whatever had been bothering them. Hermione still seemed somewhat subdued. She had done a good job covering it up, but Sirius could tell that her smiles had a brittle edge to them, that she was a tad too quiet, and that she didn't laugh as easily as she would normally. He wanted to pull her to the library and sort out whatever it was that was hurting her, but knew he shouldn't. He just grit his teeth as they finished dinner and Hermione was dragged away by Ginny, Ron and Harry.
He resolved to leave it alone until later, when everyone had gone to bed and she inevitably would be found in the library. So, he went up to check on Buckbeak and maintain the room that he had painstakingly cleaned. After a while he could hear the other occupants of the house getting ready for bed. When the house stilled he went to wash up and put on some soft lounge pants and a worn t-shirt, and headed down to the library.
He opened the door silently and looked in to see Hermione sitting curled up on the couch in sleep shorts and an overlarge sweater, reading by the crackling firelight. Everything felt cozy and comforting and Hermione seemed much more relaxed and at peace than any other time he had seen her that day. Sirius felt himself smile at the sight and let himself fix the image in his mind.
He strode over to the couch and dipped his hands to gently scrape Hermione's curls up. He leaned over her head and looked down at her book.
"What are you reading, Kitten?"
Hermione smiled softly, leaning her head up slightly to bump him under the chin. Flipping the book over, and using her fingers as a bookmark she showed him the title. "A Christmas Carol," she said as he read the title, despite the redundancy.
"Hm….is this not on my booklist?" Asked Sirius, playfully as he started making tiny little braids along the side of her head.
She hummed, her eyes closing for a moment, enjoying the feeling of fingers along her scalp. "Your booklist is already long enough."
He made a face. "How am I supposed to not feel left out when you're reading things without me?" He complained, pouting.
Hermione smiled up at him. "Am I not allowed to read without you now?"
Sirius was working on putting a small braid next to the one he just finished. "Of course not," he said as though it was the most obvious thing in the world.
She laughed again, her face brightening like the first star to appear at dusk. Her eyes glittered in the firelight and the lights in the tree. For a moment Sirius felt something in his chest constrict at the sight.
"Do you want me to read it to you?" She asked, her head tilting to accommodate the deft fingers that moved to the other side of her head. The fire cracked, the smell of cedar perfumed the air, peppermint wafted from the teapot and mug on the side table, and the mix of warm spices scented up to him from her hair.
"Obviously," Sirius replied with mock exasperation.
With an equally mocking sigh she flipped the book to the first page and started reading in a well practiced voice:
"Marley was dead, to begin with. There is no doubt whatever about that. The register of his burial was signed by the clergyman, the clerk, the undertaker, and the chief mourner."
He eventually migrated to the couch after finishing his braiding. At first he sat with his arm curled around her shoulder, his hand in her hair, but he soon slid down to the pillow that was already prepared for him on her lap. He lay there, his legs hanging over the armrest and his face turned into Hermione's stomach. His eyes were closed as she untied the messy knot at the base of his skull and ran her fingers through his unbound hair.
He felt warm contentment at the practiced affection. It was a feeling that he had coveted since he could remember. He let the matter of her dreary mood be for now, wanting to maintain this peace that they both needed.
Eventually he heard a yawn that broke the peaceful rhythm of Hermione's voice. Sirius laughed as he sat up from her lap, the jet black waves of his hair mussed from Hermione's finger combing. He pulled her to her feet.
"Come on, Kitten. I'll walk you up," he said, he looked down at her with a fond smile. He held her hand as they ascended the stairs.
Hermione tried to step off at the second floor landing, but Sirius tugged at her arm to continue climbing. "Sirius, mine and Ginny's room is here," she said, perplexed. Her eyebrows furrowed.
"I know. But I want to give you your Christmas present early," he grinned at her, tugging on her arm again. "With Arthur in St. Mungo's I don't want to make it seem like I'm taking away from the seriousness of the situation, but I worked really hard on this."
An excited smile lit Hermione's face as she followed him up. He led her to a richly stained oak door with a brushed brass door handle.
"Close your eyes," he instructed, turning towards her and hiding the door. One hand was on the door knob while the other still clasped her hand. Hermione shut her eyes, a pert smile was on her up tilted face.
Sirius turned the brass door knob and opened the door. Checking that she wasn't peeking, he grasped her other hand and led her backwards through the door.
He let go of her left hand so that he could wave his right and silently light the room. "Alright, Sweetling. Go ahead and open your eyes."
He watched her open her amber eyes, the lights in the room reflecting in them, making them appear bright and shadowy at the same time. The shadows from her lashes elongated across her cheekbones like wispy feathers.
It was a cozy room that looked very similar to the downstairs library except less ostentatious. The colors were warm toned reds and golds. It was somewhat reminiscent of the Gryffindor common room. There was a comfortable couch and an armchair against one wall, a desk in the corner and all but one of the walls was lined in nearly empty bookcases.
Hermione looked around the room a little bemused until she caught sight of one of the bookcases that had one full shelf lined with books. She walked closer, a small gasp escaped her.
"These are mine," she said, looking back at Sirius with a question on her face. Her burning amber and dark cherry wood eyes bored into his.
"I fixed this room up for you," he said, stuffing his hands in his pockets feeling suddenly bashful. Suddenly worried that she didn't like it. "I added a few books that I had Moony get in Muggle London that I thought looked interesting in a catalog."
"You built me a library," she said, her eyes becoming round as she realized what he was getting at. She turned around to fully take in the little details of the room; a little scratching post and pillow lined basket for Crookshanks, muggle stationary he knew she was fond of was neatly arranged on the desk, a window seat with gauzy curtains and plush pillows, a beautiful wall clock that was perfectly situated across from the couch, and many other small touches that he had carefully curated. "My own library." The disbelief was clear in her voice.
Seeing the shocked but positive reaction, Sirius removed his hands from his pockets and grinned at her disbelieving face. "It's not very full, yet. I figure you have more books you want to add and we can both add more books to it over time, so it's more of a work in progress than anything."
Hermione turned her eyes on him, wide and glittering in the fairy lights that he had set up to edge the bookcases. She ran to him, and leaped up to wrap her arms around him. Despite his surprise, he caught her around the waist and let her feet hang for a moment. He relished the moment; The pure gratitude, trust, and intimacy that he longed for and that she so willingly provided. Carefully he set her down on the ground. She didn't let go at first, loosening her arms only to turn her head and kiss him on his cheekbone. Her soft lips lingering for a moment.
"Thank you, Sirius," she said after she pulled away, eyes wet but no tears spilling. She was grinning uncontrollably. For a moment he was dumbfounded. He could only respond by laughing with joy, feeling that perhaps she had given him a greater gift.